


All the King's Men

by Dollar_Day



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, DC/Vertigo references, F/M, Guest appearance in later chapters, Like really slow, Slow Burn, from a familiar character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 78,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9476642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dollar_Day/pseuds/Dollar_Day
Summary: Bodies are being found all over Sunnydale without a single trace of the person responsible. The Scooby Gang are completely baffled, unable to find out what supernatural force is behind these killings. In desperation, Giles decides they need a consultant. Enter the Laughing Magician himself, John Constantine.





	1. Prologue: The Devil You Know

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fanfiction, so I hope you're merciful in your opinions. I don't know why there aren't more fleshed out Buffy/Hellblazer fanfics out there, because I think the two stories really blend together well. I've altered the Constantine's background a bit for the story. Most of the changes are temporal, in that he's younger than in the comics (he's 26 years old) and the events of Newcastle occurred in 1989 instead of 1978 like in the comics. 
> 
> This takes place during season 3 between episodes 4 and 5 of BTVS and I'll be drawing from certain aspects and storylines from the Hellblazer comics as well as the tv show.
> 
> Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Hellblazer belongs to DC/Vertigo.

**Prologue: The Devil You Know**

Sweltering heat and endless sun was one of the reasons that he absolutely despised Southern California. He may not have always liked Britain’s cloudy skies and random showers, but it wasn’t as oppressive as a bright and sunny day. Perhaps he was being overly dramatic and pessimistic, but he figured he had a perfect excuse to be.

Being a master of the dark arts didn’t mean sunny days and a happy-go-lucky life.

It meant a continuously growing list of dead friends and endless hell-on-earth type chaos.

And exile. He could’ve gone anywhere but when he got the call from an old friend, he figured it was better than sitting on his arse all day in some stingy New York apartment. The flight from LaGuardia had been hell considering the circumstances that led up to it. He wasn't used to doing favors out of the so-called "kindness of his heart" but he owed it to the old codger. And he might as well see if it was worth checking out just in case. He regretted it now that he was here with the sunlight bouncing off his grim and jet-lagged face. He was always led something of a wanderer's lifestyle, but how he started out as one of the most infamous mages to be spawned out of Britain to an exile bumming about in the land of stars and stripes was something even he couldn't fathom at times.

He'd have to bide his time, but he'd be back. Neither Heaven nor Hell would stop him from returning to England.

 _One day._ He thought to himself.  _One of these bloody days._

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He took a long drag of his _Silk Cut_ brand cancer-stick and chuckled sardonically to himself as he got off the train at his final destination.

_It takes a special kind of idiot to build a sodding town right on top of a bloody Hellmouth._

_Although, whoever named it must either be a sodding idiot or the wittiest wank-stain to ever walk the planet._

He reached for another cigarette from his pack only to find he had smoke his last one.

“Bollocks.” He threw the pack away, picked up his bags and started walking from the station to the town proper, grinning at the welcome sign for newcomers to the simple California town.

 **_Welcome to Sunnydale!_ ** **_Enjoy your stay!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should say that I originally posted this on fanfiction.net. The story's not complete but there are more chapters there. And they're first drafts with very light editing. The plan is to post the refined and edited version here and keep the other one as a backup. I will be posting on both sites.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Desperate Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Hellblazer belongs to DC/Vertigo
> 
> I own nothing. Except this story.
> 
> I think...

**Ch 1. Desperate Times**

In all his years studying all things supernatural, mystical, and occult, never had Rupert Giles been as perplexed by the situation before him as he was right now. When the first killings had started three weeks ago, he had assumed it was another vampire attack. It seemed perfectly reasonable given the evidence provided from the bodies: two puncture wounds in the neck and a decreased amount of blood in the corpses. This coupled with the fact that the first three victims were all loners, runaways, people who wouldn’t be missed.

But then things began to turn strange, which is a remarkable feat given the fact that they were on the epicenter of all things strange and hellish. It all started with the fourth victim, the hospital administrator of Sunnydale General.

He showed signs of having been bit, but the body was also found with a bullet hole in the temple. A revolver was gripped in his hand and in his coat pocket there was a suicide note. This seemed unusual behavior for a vampire. The only likely conclusion would be that there was an ulterior motive behind this.

_But that still doesn’t make much sense. If there was an ulterior motive, then why go to the trouble of making the administrator’s death seem like a suicide?_

That’s when the real terror began. Bodies started to be found at an alarming rate. By the end of the second week there were 27 victims in total. The whole of Sunnydale was now gripped in a state of fear. After the administrator’s death, Buffy had suggested that she and Faith go out and see if there have been rumors amidst the demonic residents of the Hellmouth of this new vampire, but no one seemed to know anything. And the killings not only increased in quantity, but in gruesome quality as well.

Pale white corpses, without a single drop of blood in them, were found with their torsos ripped open. Their innards seemed to be drained of all vitality, shriveled up with almost no moisture in them. No life.

 _It’s been almost a month now, and we’re still none the wiser._ He thought in frustration.  _Perhaps I should call…_

 _NO. No, no, no. Bringing HIM into this would only guarantee to escalate things._ He had to find another way. _If I don’t then, I am desperate indeed._

His ruminations were shaken away from him as the library doors opened and in walked his charge. “Ah, Buffy”, he said trying to purge his thoughts. “Have you found anything new on patrol?”

“Other than the usual vamp, nothing out of the ordinary.” She said with a hint of exasperation. These killings seemed to be starting to take a real toll on her.

“I see. Most unfortunate”, he said, mostly to himself as he rubbed his glasses clean.

“Really, Giles? ‘Most unfortunate’? This is a disaster! We’ve been on this case for nearly three weeks now and we’re still no closer to finding out what did this!”

She was sick and tired of being unable to make any progress. But then again, they all were. The rest of the Scooby Gang were helping as best they could but even then, very little had been accomplished.

“I know, I know. This case seems to be most challenging indeed. I’ve sent word about this to Council HQ back in London, but they seemed as stumped as we. The best information that they’ve given us is a rather long list of possible vampire leaders.”

“Well, isn’t that at least something for us to start with?”

“Yes, well the list that they’ve faxed me is over fifteen pages long and given the fact that nearly every vampire listed is of an obscure standing due to their antiquated mention in some of the oldest vampire compendiums in recorded history, starting our search may take up a lot of time.”

“There has to be something else we can do. Isn’t there anyone you can call who might be able to give us some help?”

_Oh, dear. I was afraid she’d ask this. If I do involve him, then we might be able to…_

“Well…”, he said with notable reluctance.

“Yes?”

“There may perhaps be someone I know. He was a student of mine for a time, before I became a Watcher.”

Her eyes shot up as she asked, “A student? Like in the Harry Potter kind of way?”

“I- I suppose so?”, he said, completely lost on the reference. “He’s since become an expert of all things arcane and occult.”

“Really? He doesn’t sound like much, but at this point I’m willing to try anything.”

“Yes, so am I apparently.” A slightly far-off look was beginning to haunt his eyes.

“Are you alright Giles? You were doing that weird eye thing that you do whenever I try to bring up your past.”

“O-oh.” He blushed slightly. “I-I’m perfectly fine.” _No, you’re not Rupert. You’re positively terrified. At least this case appears to be less demonic than the type he usually handles. But knowing him, chaos will be following close behind._

“I’ll just give him a quick call right and see if he can perhaps provide some insight.”

“Cool.” Buffy was a bit hesitant now. She knew that Giles was always a bit secretive about his youth, but this wasn’t out of shame or hatred like it was with Ethan Rayne. It looked more like fear.

 _Oh, boy._ Maybe calling this magic man for a quick consult wasn’t such a good idea. But then again, they were _desperate._ And besides, how bad could he be?

“So, what’s his name?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Don't worry, there's more to come soon...


	3. An Englishman in New York (and L.A.)

**Chapter 2: An Englishman in New York (and L.A.)**  
  
_Greenwich Village, Manhattan_  
  
If there's one thing that John Constantine hated about telephones, it was the fact that they rang at the most unwanted of times. And no matter how important the call was or who was at the other end, he knew that it would more likely than not end in some sort of catastrophe or another. In this case, he was practicing a particularly difficult spell when the phone interrupted his train of thought.  
  
_Bollocks._  
  
Lighting a cigarette and pouring himself a glass of gin, he picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Er- hello? John?", asked a familiar voice.  
  
"Giles?" That was a name he hadn't said in years. The last time John had seen him Giles had accepted his 'destiny' and became a Watcher. As far as they were both concerned the Watcher's Council were a bunch of the stuck up, tweedy arseholes who ponced about with a holier-than-thou attitude towards the rest of the supernatural world. _But times change and apparently so did he. Oh, how the mighty fall._ He took a swig of his gin and continued, "Well, as I live and bloody breathe! How'd you get this number? I thought you'd given up on me after Newcastle."  
  
"Francis is very cooperative, more so than you've ever been. He sends his regards by the way."  
  
_"_ Of course, he is, the soddin' wanker." _Chas, sometimes you can be such a cunt._  
  
"Yes, well going by your usual pleasantries, you understand why I still have some reservations about contacting you, but this isn't a social call. There's a situation going on at Sunnydale and we could use someone of your… expertise." _Sunnydale? California? Now, where have I heard that before?_  
  
"Nice to know that I'm still wanted, mate." he said, voice dripping with his usual sarcasm. "By "we" I'm guessing you're referring to you and the Slayer, eh? Well, at least the Watcher's Council are still maintaining their reputation of utter uselessness seeing that you're desperate enough to call me."  
  
"Unfortunately, you're quite right. There's been a recent string of killings here and frankly we haven't a clue as to what's behind them. I was hoping that you could assist in our investigation."  
  
"Is that so?" _Interesting. And way to downplay the obvious hesitance, Giles._  
  
"Yes. Yes, it is. Look, John, you know that I'm not one for confronting emotions or regrets well. But if this **is** about Ravenscar, if you want me to apologize, then I'm- "  
  
"No. No, Giles, don't you dare apologize for that." His voice was low, near trembling with self-loathing. _I may have hated it, but I fucking deserved every minute of that hellhole- hang on a tick._ "Wait, did you say "Sunnydale"? As in one of the most active Hellmouths on the planet?"  
  
"Ye- Yes, I did. So, you understand why our situation is so precarious. If any unknown force has managed to-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, spare me from your bloody Oxbridge ravings." he interrupted as he poured himself another glass of gin. _Well, this just got interesting. And by that, I mean 'has the potential to turn into another fucking bloodbath.'_  
  
"I know we haven't been on the best of terms, but we do need your help and if I must beg for your assistance then- "  
  
"No, don't bother pissing yourself asking for my help. I'll do it."  
  
"You will?"  
  
"Did I not just fuckin' said I would?" _Christ on a bike, was he always this slow?_  
  
"Ah, yes. Well, I- um… thanks you John for- "  
  
"Don't thank me yet. I'm only doing this to see if what you're dealing with is worth my time at all. I'll catch the first flight out tomorrow. I'll call you when I get there."  
  
He hung up the phone before Giles could say another word. _Well, here I go again._ Finishing his gin and blowing out his prayer candles, he turned and looked out of the window of his New York apartment. In the frigid metropolitan outline, only one singular word graced his thoughts as he reflected on the implications of his new case.  
  
"Fuck."

* * *

_Sunnydale, CA_

 

The Bronze was the proverbial 'diamond in the rough' for Sunnydale's more youthful denizens. As the only nightclub in the whole town, its flaws and limitations were accepted as a necessary evil. Better to have a shit nightclub than no night club at all, eh?

  
Such a spot also became a popular center for the town's more demonic inhabitants. Or at least that's what Darius heard when he first arrived at Sunnydale with his master. _Oh, the wondrous potential that this town contains._ Stepping into the party atmosphere of the club he was immediately floored just by how crowded it was. Apparently, this pathetic little joint was more popular than he thought.  
  
_It's a pity that this wasn't our first stop. We could've had a feast on the first day._  
  
Weaving his way through the crowd, he spotted a woman on the dance floor. The slim brunette was emanating sensuality in every aspect of her. From the way that her hips swayed in beat to the music to the smile that streaked across her full lips, he could tell that she was a heart-breaker. He felt pity for the men dancing with her. That was as close as they ever would get.  
  
_On her own it seems. How very lovely. I bet she'd taste fantastic._  
  
As he sauntered his way over to her through the sea of people, another young woman went up to her. She was smaller than the brunette and a redhead too. _Fascinating._ He could hear their conversation quite easily amidst the noise of the club.  
  
"Faith! There you are! Buffy said that she needed some help over at Restfield Cemetery."  
  
She could see the annoyance on the brunette's face flicker for just a moment as she turned to the redhead and responded, "Gotcha. Just let me get my jacket first."  
  
"Okay, but hurry up. She thinks that she may have found a lead." The redhead then ran off to the exit and out into the night.  
  
The brunette walked right past Darius on her way to get her jacket from her seat. He didn't get a chance to talk to her, but as she passed him he gave her a seductive look. She paused for a second, her face contorting into one of lust. Turning reluctantly to the exit, but not before smirking and giving him a quick wink, she ran out of the club following the waiting redhead.  
  
_'Faith', eh? Fascinating. Very fascinating. And quite alluring as well._  
  
His eyes then spotted a rather lonely looking girl near the bar. She also didn't appear to be with anyone. Darius smiled as his eyes focused on his new target.  
  
_I love this town._

* * *

The world of the supernatural and the arcane, John learned once upon a time, is a world whose surface matched the rest of the natural universe quite accurately. It was a world where systems of order were intricately weaved out amidst all forms of life and existence. It could branch out from the furthest corners of reality to matter on a sub-atomic level. Its patterns and maneuvers could affect beings and events separated by the chasms of time and space, while at the same time be affected by beings and events separated by the chasms of time and space. In short, it was vast, beautiful, chaotic, and made not a single lick of sense.

  
If you asked John Constantine, why he thought this, his response would be one word: Slayers. _No, seriously. Slayers._  
  
Having just arrived at LAX, he walked through the cesspool of corruption, greed, and unnatural warmth that was downtown Los Angeles as he pondered the nature of the Slayers. They were supposed to be the Chosen Ones. The lucky, little shits hand-picked by the heavenly host to safeguard the planet because those winged-wanks couldn't be bothered to do it themselves.  
  
As far as he was concerned, he didn't mind that the Slayer line existed. In fact, he quite liked having the Slayers around. _I'm not a soldier. So, anything to make sure that I don't have to be the poor sod on the front-line is alright with me._ It was the fact that only one girl in all the world was chosen to be the leader in this fucking war. That's right. One poor 14-year-old potential is chosen at random by God knows what, and in a flash she is to exist as nothing else but the killer of all things that fuck about in the night. _It's just not right. A young girl like that is supposed to be living out her life and not have to have the job of saving the world from all the things that drove me into the loony-bin._  
  
But he knew that it was more than anger at the higher powers of the universe that was making him 'sentimental'. The image of a young girl whose life was destroyed by supernatural forces beyond her control reminded him of that night back in 1989. _Reminded him of the night everything changed. Newcastle, the old gang, the botched exorcism. And her._  
  
_He remembered how she screamed as she was taken._  
  
He shook away his thoughts as he entered the cacophony of commuters that was Union Station. Making his way to the ticket booth, he purchased a ticket for the next train to Sunnydale. He moved his hand to his coat pocket for a cigarette, but his eyes caught the sign above:  
  
**NO SMOKING ZONE**  
  
He rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself, "Oh, for Christ's sake…"  
  
Stepping onto the platform, he lit his cigarette and waited. He had his hesitations about doing this. He hated having to deal with vampires. _Bloody annoying, those lot are._ _But if the blood-sucker doing this is carving out his reign of terror on the Hellmouth, the implications go beyond terrible into the realm of 'an utter catastrofuck'._ Also, being a practitioner of magic meant that his presence on the Hellmouth would amplify his powers. And that could only end in trouble. _Get in, solve the case, and get out. Don't stay longer than necessary._  
  
Stepping on the last of his ciggy, the train pulled into the station and he quietly boarded. With the California landscape rolling past his field of vision he drifted slowly to sleep. He knew that he'd need a short nap. He suspected that this would be the last bit of peace he'd have for a while.  
  
As his eyes slowly closed, one final thought slithered across his mind.  
  
_Now if only I could get rid of the nightmares._


	4. Waiting for the Man

**Chapter 3: Waiting for the Man**  
  
Interrogations were never really Buffy's strong suit, at least not beyond the basic "talk now or you're dust" routine. In all fairness, it wasn't as if she had ever thought that she'd need interrogation skills when it came to Slaying. The concept, while a setback for her social life, seemed simple enough to grasp out of context: She kills vampires. The truth was it that it was never that simple. And it really wasn't. And really was. All at the same time. Somehow.  
  
It certainly felt that way on tonight's patrol. A trio of vamps ambushed her and Willow in Restfield Cemetery. Usually she'd just stake them and move on, but one of the vamps said something about how the Slayer's head would be the perfect present for the "sovereign". Now that caught her attention. So, they fought and she won. Obviously.  
  
Dusting two and beating the leader down before straddling him, she made her threat explicit.  
  
"So, what was that you were saying about a gift for the 'sovereign'?"  
  
"You'll never get anything out of me Slayer."  
  
 _Ah, the usual spiel. Man, these guys like clichés._  
  
A few punches still failed to bring out anything from the stubborn vamp, so she sent Willow to get Faith. Hopefully the brunette's "enthusiasm" for this kind of thing, while a bit discomforting, would manage to get something out of this guy.  
  
"Damn B! I didn't know you liked it rough", Faith smirked as she stepped out of the shadows still wearing her party outfit from the Bronze. "Or are you just prepping for Scott?"  
  
Rolling her eyes Buffy responded, "And where's Willow?" She didn't want any more reminders about Scott Hope, her first boyfriend since _him._ Dragging the vamp up from under her, she shoved him against the wall of a nearby crypt.  
  
"Red went back to the school. Said she had to talk to Giles about something."  
  
"Talk to Giles? About what?"  
  
Faith shrugged. "Beats me. Now, you better have something good otherwise you owe me another night's patrol." She was still feeling a bit hot from her dance at the Bronze and she needed to get out of her system one way or another.  
  
"This guy knows something, but he won't talk."  
  
"Hmm, I gotcha. Boy needs a bit of motivation?"  
  
"Yeah, so try not to knock him out cold."  
  
"No, promises."  
  
A couple of intense beatings involving a knife and some carefully applied holy water, Faith finally got something out of him.  
  
"For the last time, who's your goddamn boss?!", she growled out.  
  
"I- I don't know", he gasped out.  
  
"Oh no, you've gotta do better than that buddy," she said as she landed another brutal punch onto the vamp. Buffy winced slightly at the whole scene playing out before her. _Jeez. I'm glad she's on our side._ But her thoughts quickly shifted back to the interrogation as the vamp seemed to explode in a flurry of frustration and… fear?  
  
"I told you, I don't know! No one knows! He says he's a vamp, like one of us, but he ain't!"  
  
"Not like one of you? What do you mean?", Buffy asked. _So, a vampire wasn't doing this?_  
  
"No, Slayer", his voice shuddering as his bravado façade collapsed around him. "He's ain't like one of _us_. Not like _any_ of us."  
  
Confusion crept slowly across both of their faces, as Faith and Buffy turned to each other before settling back onto the whimpering mess before them. But before he could elaborate more on this newest revelation, a strong gust of wind howled across the cemetery. In an instant the vampire let out a cry before turning to dust. Faith and Buffy both shot up, alert and in defensive positions. But there was no one else in the cemetery.  
  
 _Well, this just keeps getting better and better._

* * *

_The Following Day_

"And you're sure that you didn't see anyone else?"  
  
"Giles, for the hundredth time, Faith and I both searched the cemetery. There wasn't anyone else, and none of our slayer senses perked up afterwards." She sighed as she sat down after going through last night's events _again._  
  
"Yes, well I'm just concerned about the secrecy that appears to be surrounding this macabre affair." Giles sighed as he cleaned his glasses. _As if imploring_ _ **him**_ _for his assistance was bad enough, now this._  
  
"Well, at least it's something, right? I mean, at least we can cross of most of the vampires that we have off our list", said Xander.  
  
"But Xander, we still don't what it **is** or what it wants or why it's controlling all the demons on the Hellmouth", said Willow. "I mean, Giles did say that the Council didn't have anything on record about this."  
  
"Willow is right. If whatever this- this 'creature' is has also managed to place a state of control onto the demonic population of Sunnydale, then we may be something more ancient and terrible than anything we've faced before." _And more unknown._  
  
You could hear a pin drop as they contemplated this possibility in silence.  
  
 _R-I-I-I-IIIING_  
  
Shaken out of his contemplation along with the others, Giles went over to his desk and answered the phone.  
  
"Hello? Ah yes, I was wondering when you'd call. Hmm? Oh, of course. The address for the school is…"  
  
His voice drifted away as he stepped into his office leaving Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies feeling a little bit curious about the call. Was this Giles' old student-turned-sorcerer?  
  
The three of them didn't know much about this guy. Xander and Willow only learned about him this morning, and what little they knew was given from Buffy. And the only information that Giles' told her was that this John Constantine guy was that he had an extensive knowledge of the occult and beyond, Giles used to teach him magic, and they had a falling out. Nothing else beyond that.  
  
It made them wonder what Giles was like when he was younger.  
  
"Well, we could meet up later at- now? If you insist. Yes, goodbye John." _Oh, bugger._  
  
"So, Giles", Buffy started, "was that your mysterious magic helper?"  
  
"Yes, it was", he sighed. "but to say that he's a helper of any sort would be a gross inaccuracy."  
  
"What do you mean, he's not going to help us out?" Buffy was concerned now. Giles was starting to look like he made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. _What happened between him and this Constantine guy, anyway?_  
  
"Quite the contrary. In all the years that I've known him, he's proven to be surprisingly reliable when it comes to his assistance. It's his methods that prove to be more than questionable, at best." Giles began to clean his glasses again. The Scoobies looked a bit worried, seeing as they knew that it was a habit that only surfaced whenever Giles was nervous. Or talked about his past.  
  
"It also doesn't help that he willingly chooses to eschew all ethics and sensibility. If it weren't for the fact that he holds a greater encyclopedic knowledge of the occult and its obscurities than any other occultist, I wouldn't have asked for his aid at all."  
  
Okay, they didn't exactly know the personal history behind that, but the more they heard about this ex-magic student, the more intrigued they were. He was starting to sound like quite a character.  
  
"Giles, you're talking about this guy as if he's like some catastrophic… catastrophe," said Willow.  
  
"No, I'm talking about him as if he's the most stubborn, immoral, and irreverent arse-hole on the face of the bloody planet." There was a reluctant, but seething rage in Giles' unexpected statement.  
  
"Wow G-man, I don't think we've ever heard you swear before," said Xander, trying to ease the tension of the moment with his usual humor. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"  
  
Before Giles could respond, a new voice piped up from behind Giles.  
  
"Don't joke around, son. A snog from the likes of Rupert Giles can inspire levels of naughtiness that even I've yet to achieve."  
  
 _Well,_ thought Giles, _now I truly enter Hell._


	5. First Impressions Always Last

**Chapter 4: First Impressions Always Last**  
  
 ** _Previously:_**  
  
"Don't joke around, son. A snog from the likes of Rupert Giles can inspire levels of naughtiness that even I've yet to achieve."  
  
 _Well,_ thought Giles, _now I truly enter Hell._

* * *

All four of them turned to the source of the voice.  
  
At the entrance of the library stood a man with dirty-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a bit of scruff, who appeared to be in his late 20s. His clothes, while formal in style, appeared cheap and made him look quite disreputable. He had on a white shirt, black slacks, black and red striped tie, and a grey waistcoat, with black oxfords on his feet. Completing his outfit was a tan knee-length trench coat. In one hand was a carpet bag, while the other hand held a cigarette between two fingers. What struck the three Sunnydale High students the most was his smile. It was a confident smile that seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe in its curve. It was a smile that seemed to say, _"I'll always win. How or why don't matter. I will_ _always_ _win."_ If he didn't have the cigarette, the cocky-looking grin, and appeared a bit more put-together, they might've mistaken him for a new teacher. Or maybe a Watcher, like Giles.  
  
"You're still using your real name, I assume? Unless you've gone back to that shite excuse of a moniker," the stranger snarked, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Seriously though, what kind of a name is _Ripper?_ "  
  
The response to the new arrival before them was varied between the four.  
  
Xander felt a bit unnerved by the man, seeing his affinity for long coats and taking in his rough English accent, he couldn't help but be reminded of a certain bleach-blonde vampire that tried to kill him last year.  
  
Willow was grasped with a mixture of infatuation and awe by this stranger. _Here was a proper occultist,_ she thought to herself. _Maybe he could help me learn more about magic (not that Giles isn't a good teacher, but it's just that he said himself that he didn't want to take on students and warned me to stay away from the darker spell books, and- oh, darn it Willow! You're getting all babbly in your own head!)_  
  
Buffy, however felt drawn to him, not so much in the way that she was once drawn to a certain vampiric ex-boyfriend. When he first spoke, her slayer sense twigged in a way it never had before. It was like she could sense great power in him, like a blinking light that seemed to flicker in and out of the dark. A light that wasn't strong as much as it was stubborn, persistent, or… _constant._ Yet, she also felt something else surrounding it, something chaotic, almost demonic.  
  
This wasn't like when she met Angel, who drew her in despite his mysterious personality. This was more as if she found something that for once she just couldn't understand, but was drawn to it nonetheless. He was fascinating because of it, not in spite of it. It was like his presence was an unwarranted interference, but she wanted to find out more.  
  
Giles however felt as if the meager semblance of normality that he had in his life was being disrupted. Almost like returning to an old-war zone. His tone reflected as much. "Oh, and what's wrong with Ripper?"  
  
"Not a bloody thing, mate," his trademark grin widening with every word. "Unless you want to be mistaken for the demonic lord of flatulence, though in your advanced age I wouldn't be surprised if you were also mistaken for one of his discharges."  
  
"Right! Now see here- "  
  
"Before you go on giving me a verbal twatting, perhaps you'd allow me to introduce myself to the impressionable youths?"  
  
Giles glanced quickly to the three students before recollecting himself. "Oh yes, of course." Feeling slightly embarrassed, but internally feeling his offense was justified, he slowly stepped out of John's way.  
  
"Hello, my name's John Constantine." He smirked as he flung his finished cigarette behind him.  
  
Trying to regain some civility amidst the chaos, Buffy stepped forward with her hand outstretched. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Constantine. I'm Buffy Summers, the Slayer and these are my friends Willow and Xander," nodding her head to her two best friends.  
  
"It's nice to meet you, _Buffy Summers._ " He took the blonde Slayer's outstretched hand and shook it as he carried on, "Now, I'm guessing you three already know a bit about me. Ol' Giles was always the best at introductions." His eyes scanned the library vacantly.  
  
"Yeah, well we don't know much", said Xander, trying to shake off the discomfort he was feeling about the newly-arrived Englishman. "He was a bit vague and cryptic about you."  
  
"He gets that from me," he said as he moved to light another cigarette, before Giles snatched it from his lips. "I tend to be an inevitable influence."  
  
"So, how exactly are you going to help us?" Buffy asked, wanting to get to the point. "Giles said you were like some walking magic encyclopedia or something." The more Buffy took this man in, the more skeptical she became. _At least I know why Giles was so nervous talking about him. He looks more cocky and arrogant than Spike._  
  
"Glad to see that you're still big on clarity and specificity, Giles", the magus taunted. Ignoring the glare that Giles was sending his way, he reached into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a business card and handed it over to Buffy. " _That_ is what I do, luv."  
  
 _Oh, he has… business cards? That's…interesting?_  
  
Not knowing what to make of it, and still curious about him, she took the card in her hand. Xander and Willow, who had been silent since the enigmatic Brit sauntered in, wandered over to where Buffy stood as the three of them looked at the card and read:  
  
 **JOHN CONSTANTINE**  
  
 _Exorcist, Demonologist, and Master of the Dark Arts_  
  
 _(404) 248 - 7182_  
  
"Exorcist?" asked Buffy.  
  
"Demonologist?" asked Xander.  
  
"Master of the Dark Arts!" exclaimed Willow.  
  
"Oh, for Christ's sake", he moaned. "I'm getting new ones made."  
  
"That's amazing!", interrupted the ginger kid- _Willow, I think?_ "So, you're not just an expert on the occult, you're an actual practicing wizard? Do you know any Draconian incantations, or Celtic blood rituals, or- oh, what about exorcisms? Because I remember reading in one of Giles' books that there different types of exorcisms in different cultures and depending on the- "  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down for a minute. There are two things, Red. First of all, the proper term is "mage". I'm not some ancient, air-headed, robe-wearing ponce who speaks in babble. Second, I'm not a teacher and never will be, which is probably for the best. So, for the sake of your life and my nerves, I'd suggest you ask someone else." _Bloody hell, she's got a mouth on her. I didn't see any of that coming._  
  
Willow deflated and quickly tried to hide the disappointment on her face as Giles interrupted. "Well now, that introductions are out of the way, maybe we should update Mr. Constantine on the situation at hand."  
  
"About bloody time. I thought we'd have to carry out this whole bantering bollocks to the end." John moved to sit at the center table, setting his carpetbag down in front of him.  
  
"So, I hear you've a bit of a vampire problem on your hands", he said bringing his feet up to rest onto the table. "A bit ironic innit, considering what you do?"  
  
"Yes, well these circumstances are far more abnormal, even for us", replied Giles as he wiped his glasses _again._ "Originally, we were completely lost as to the creature behind these killings. But last night, Buffy and Faith interrogated a vampire who seemed to be working for the ones responsible. Th-The vampire only made a passing remark, some ominous statement about how "he's not like any of us." I've cobbled together a few theories based on his claims, cross-referenced to the list that the Council provided, of course. Obviously, I see the foolishness in trusting the word of a vampire, but- "  
  
Giles immediately halted at the sight in front of him before sighing in exasperation. At the table, John had leaned back, eyes closed, hands behind his head. The three Scoobies looked at each other and then to Giles, all of them seeming to express some variation of " _Seriously?"_ on their face.  
  
"Oh, for god's sake!" cried Giles. "John, could you please take this seriously! I knew I was fooling myself into thinking that your full cooperation would be given without any-"  
  
"Who's Faith?" asked John, eyes still closed.  
  
Well, that question caught them all off guard. Giles himself didn't realize that he'd mentioned the name of the newest, yet currently absent, member of their group. It took a second for everyone to register what he had inquired.  
  
Buffy was the first to speak, "She's the Slayer... the other Slayer."  
  
Now John was intrigued. _Another Slayer? Strewth, there's two of 'em?_  
  
Getting up, he asked, "I thought Slayers were always the "Chosen One". You know, "the one girl in all the world chosen to castrate Dracula and kick Satan in the bollocks" or some cryptic-sounding dross like that. So how the bloody hell are there two?"  
  
But before anyone could respond, Giles irately spoke up, "Perhaps it's best we get back to the matter of the murderous unknown entity that we called you here for in the first place?"  
  
Raising his eyebrow at Giles's words, he hesitated before saying, "Well, what's the bloody point, mate? You've got nothing but the piss-stain words of a dead vampire and a list that's about as useful as recycled loo paper." Taking his box of Silk Cuts out of his pocket and getting one out to light, he asked, "Where was the last victim found?"  
  
"At a house on Kearny Boulevard."  
  
"And this interrogation between our dusted friend and the Chosen Two, where did it occur?"  
  
"Restfield Cemetery."  
  
John stood still for a moment, the smoke of his cigarette coating him like fog, before continuing, "Don't you worry, squire. I think I've got just the ticket. I'm going to need Ms. Summers to accompany me to the house of the last victim and Restfield Cemetery. In the meantime, get your hands on the autopsy reports for all the victims. I want to see them for myself."  
  
Confusion marring his face, for _God knows how many times_ today, Giles spoke up, "Do you want to see the police reports, as well?"  
  
"Don't bother yourself with that", he said with a gleam in his eye. "I've got a few tricks up me sleeve."  
  
Picking up his carpetbag, he turned to the confused looks of all four of them as he continued, "Ms. Summers, I'm currently staying over at the motel. Room 510. We can meet at sunset and then we'll head over. Sound alright to you?"  
  
Buffy nodded absently, too caught up in the whirlwind mystery that was John Constantine to respond in any other way.  
  
He took one final drag of his cigarette before he parted with, "Until then, ta."  
  
The silence was accompanied by the faint scent of tobacco, before Xander spoke up, "Well, he certainly seems to be completely insane."  
  
For once, no one refuted him.

* * *

John Constantine quickly walked away from the uncomfortable teen-angst environment that was Sunnydale High School and made his way back to his motel. Carpetbag in hand, trench coat billowing slightly in the autumn breeze, he sighed lightly to himself.  
  
 _Two slayers, a malevolent blood-sucking cunt, and an active Hellmouth._  
  
 _Well, whatever the fuck happens, at least it won't be boring._


	6. Taking It on Faith

**Chapter 5: Taking It on Faith**  
  
There were two things in the world that Faith knew how to do: slay and party. And considering how much extra hours she'd been putting in with Buffy, tonight she just wanted to party. Last night's interrogation with His Majesty's Most Stubborn yielded nothing but a wasted night. The only lead they had was dust, some vampire Jack the Ripper wannabe was still out terrorizing the town, and she was still all fired up from the night before.  
  
Getting ready to meet with Buffy and the rest of her Scooby Gang- _still, can't believe that's what they call themselves-_ she finished putting her black lipstick on as she took a good look at herself in the mirror. A red spaghetti strap top, a nice pair of black leather pants, and her leather boots. Completing the outfit was a black denim jacket. She gave her reflection a smirk as she grabbed two stakes and placed them in her jacket pocket. _Time to motorvate._  
  
As she stepped out the door from her room at the Sunnydale Motor Inn, she didn't expect to collide with a honey-colored blur that smelt faintly of tobacco. Before she could curse out the guy who bumped into her, she was interrupted by a rough English accent.  
  
"Terribly sorry 'bout that, miss"  
  
She took one look at the man in front of her. Dirty-blonde hair that looked a mess, light blue eyes that seemed oddly tired, and a honey-hued trench coat covering what appeared to be a suit. In his hand a leather bag and in his mouth a nearly-finished cigarette. For the first time in her life she was almost speechless. Almost.  
  
"Don't sweat it English. Just watch where you're headed next time", she replied, not too reluctantly, still trying to keep up her typical bravado. _Something's off about this dude. Like,_ _ **really**_ _off._  
  
With a nod and a Cheshire grin, he tossed his cigarette away and responded, "Oh, I'll certainly endeavor to, luv."  
  
"Good, good", she breathed out taking him in fully. _He may be off and weird as hell, but I gotta admit, he's kind of hot._ "I guess I'll see you around English."  
  
Just as she started to walk away, she heard him speak up again.  
  
"And by the way", he said as she felt a hand grasp softly onto her arm. Turning around, ready to strike in response to whatever this asshole from the land of crumpets was about to do, she was quite unprepared for him being suddenly so close to her. She noticed that his face was drifting closer to hers.  
  
 _Who the hell does this guy think he is?_  
  
But as he drew nearer, she could see that his teasing grin had faded away to something more serious. She found herself drawn to him and disturbed by him as that excitement, that good low down feeling surged and suddenly transformed into something else. She didn't know what it was, but it felt… warm? _That's new. Never felt that befo- oh, fuck. He's really leaning in._  
  
Their lips were now mere inches away, as she smelt the faint scent of cigarettes and gin. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she felt something get pressed into the palm of her hand, something made of _wood?_  
  
Before she could recollect her thoughts, the Englishman had slowly moved his lips away from hers to her ear without her noticing. She was close to shuddering as she felt his breath on her ear, either out of apprehension or from the sheer intimacy of the act.  
  
"I think you dropped this, luv.", he whispered into her ear, his gruff accent achieving to recapture a hint of the playful tone from earlier. His face was neutral as he backed away, but a coy spark could be seen in his eyes. Looking down, she saw one of her wooden stakes.  
  
Now she was pissed off.  
  
 _WHAT THE…? HOW THE…? DID HE JUST…?_ _THE SMARMY ENGLISH… BASTARD!_  
  
Every single ounce of her wanted to rip this guy apart for what he just did to her. Hell, she just wanted to kick him in the face for that shit-eating grin, he had on earlier. And the fact that he seemed to enjoy it all, was what really set her off.  
  
 _Who the hell does he think he is?_  
  
But her shock seemed to be too much, seeing as she hadn't cursed him out yet. Before she could get a word in edgewise, he had unlocked the door next to her room and stepped inside. Still processing her offense and rage, she checked her watch for the time. The whole interaction with the guy had lasted a little less than two minutes.  
  
 _He played me. The son of a bitch actually played_ _ **me.**_  
  
Walking away, with the faint recollection of that almost intimate moment in mind, she felt her anger slowly manifest into something else. Picking up her pace, and still feeling the strange twisting feeling surging through her, she smirked as she walked out into the late afternoon. Only one thought crossed her mind.  
  
 _Things in Sunnydale just got interesting._

* * *

_Interlude: Dialogue in Room 510_  
  
A flutter of wings barely registered to John Constantine, as he closed the door and was immediately thrown into surprise.  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
 _"_ _She's certainly a firecracker isn't she John?"_  
  
"She's certainly more pleasant than _some_ friends of mine."  
  
 _"_ _Oh, John. I'm touched. You consider me a friend?"_  
  
"No, I consider you a complete and total arse-wipe who doesn't have the decency to at least be useful."  
  
 _"_ _Well, it's quite fortunate that I've come bearing news. There's forces at play here that even the host could not foresee. And you stand at the center of it all."_  
  
"Well, that's just fan-fucking-tastic, innit? I don't suppose you'd have anything useful regarding the recent killings, have you?"  
  
 _"_ _John, you know that I'm not allowed to sway the outcome of events. The Balance- "_  
  
"-must be maintained, yeah, yeah. Spare me the usual reruns Manny."  
  
 _"_ _How many times, John? I would prefer you to call me Emmanuel."_  
  
"And I would prefer that you get on to the point, but if you're going to say bugger all as usual, why don't you just leave me to my work?"  
  
 _"_ _Don't you see John? We may have stopped the war, but Nergal will only return. His attempt to destroy the Palace was no secret, and now all of the hell dimensions are aware of the Darkness."_  
  
"And what the bloody hell does this have to do with me? I'm not your little errand boy anymore."  
  
 _"_ _You stand as a catalyst for all of the fluctuations occurring on the Hellmouth. It may not be Nergal, but it may very well be a force powerful enough to succeed where he failed. And if such a force is unleashed, then the Balance will be disrupted and war between the Silver City and the Pit will be outright."_  
  
"And what does it bloody matter to me, eh? Everything that I've rebuilt for myself, gone because of you and your pathetic policy of 'non-interference'. I've been forced to run from my _own country_ because of the work that I've done in service of your 'Silver bloody City'. I've done my part and lost everything because of that. So as far as I'm concerned, you and your kind can flap off."  
  
 _"_ _If it will persuade you to work for us again, I will say this. Whatever is the culprit behind these killings is not of this world. But you can only see once you speak to the right hand."_  
  
"Okay, now you're just having a fucking laugh, mate."  
  
 _"_ _It's all I can give John. I've already said more than I can. But if it's clarity you seek, then you must seek fidelity."_  
  
A flutter of wings and John Constantine was left by himself once again, as he collapsed onto his bed.  
  
"Thanks for the usual, you fucking pillock."

* * *

Buffy could feel an unnerving sense of pressure as she arrived at the Sunnydale Motor Inn. She already had a lot on her mind. Only a few weeks ago, she'd found out about Angel and his return from Acathla's hell dimension after a brutal fight between him and Pete. She'd barely managed to get him back to his old mansion without anyone else noticing and for the better part of two weeks now, she'd been helping him regain his strength. She knew it was wrong not to tell Giles about Angel's return, but something in her was just hesitant to say. I suppose it was fear, but fear of what? Betraying Angel again or Giles' trust?  
  
The recent killings haven't been a help either. When they first started out, she'd treated the events like all her previous encounters. She'd go out on patrol and wait for a someone to make a mistake, for a weak link to be discovered, for a resource to make itself known. Before she knew it, two weeks had passed producing a grand total of nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not a damn thing. And in the meantime, more people were starting to die. The town was gripped in a state of terror and neither she nor Faith could do anything about it. She was beginning to wonder if her time in Los Angeles had turned her back into an amateur.  
  
 _One big bad saunters in the city, and I can't find a single trace of them. I've been back in the fold for a while now. So why do I feel like I'm an amateur again? Am I still cut out to be the Slayer?_  
  
And then there was the new guy in the mix. Giles' old student and current pain in the ass. She was completely floored by him. Usually she could get a good read on people, but she just didn't know what to make of him. He repulsed her and at the same time drew her in. If complicated had a name, it'd probably be John Constantine.  
  
Shaking away her musings, she knocked on his door, Room 510. _Huh, so he's right next to-_  
  
"Ms. Summers. Good to see you ready for battle." He was standing in the doorway, with a cigarette in his hands. _Okay, so he definitely has a smoking habit._  
  
"I'm always ready for battle Mr. Constantine", she said as she began to take in his slightly disheveled appearance. "Though I'm not sure if you are."  
  
He still had the hard-scrabble look from earlier, but it seemed more worn-out like he'd drunk himself to a stupor and barely managed to sober up. All within the two and a half hours since she last saw him.  
  
"I was taking a small nap. Suffering in economy across four time zones will do that to a man", he grumbled, opening his leather carpetbag and checking inside. "And besides, I'm not the one going into battle. You are."  
  
"Is that so? And what you're just going to tag along?" she retorted, arms crossing her chest, "Because so far, all you've done is gloat, mock, and snark. So, what do you plan to do Columbo?" _Okay, now he was starting to get on her nerves._  
  
"Take a good look at me, kid. I'm no soldier. But what I am is a damn stubborn bastard… who also happens to know a thing or two about the occult", his dwindling patience evident in his tone. "So, if it's my usefulness your concerned with, don't worry yourself. I'm no amateur. Remember, your Watcher asked for my help."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind." _This guy may be right, but that doesn't mean I'm going to trust him. At least not completely._  
  
Picking up his bag, all sense of exasperation and impatience instantly evaporating from his face, he smiled broadly and continued, "Now then, we have a vampire to catch."  
  
He sauntered out the door, putting on his trench coat as he stepped out. Buffy sighed as she pondered the existence of another walking enigma in her life.  
  
 _Why is it always the ones in trench coats?_


	7. Breaking Glass

**Chapter 6: Breaking Glass**

"So, what's the plan when we get to the house?", Buffy asked as she and the irreverent exorcist made their way to site where the last victim was found.

"Oh, don't you worry about the details Summers. I may have a spell or two that could point us in the right direction", he said as they neared the house. "For the moment, you're here to ensure that we don't have any unwanted encounters, so to speak."

_Last thing I need is a cock-up on day one._

"So, for now I'm just playing bodyguard?" she asked trying to suppress her annoyance.

"In a way. I see it more as you playing your role."

"And what is my role?"

"The Slayer, of course", he responded, as he remembered his encounter with the young brunette at the motel. "Or **a** Slayer, at least."

_The other Slayer, eh? She seemed far more interesting. There's something different about her._

The police tape was still there when Buffy and John arrived at the scene of the last murder, 353 Kearny Blvd. There didn't seem to be much of a police presence, save for a single officer stationed at the door of the house. He was probably there to keep the scene safe for the CSIs. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small card box and removed a deck of cards. He shuffled the deck for a few seconds, before pulling out two cards and handing one over to a thoroughly confused Buffy.

_When Giles said that this guy was good with magic, I don't think he meant this._

"Okay… and what am I supposed to do with the ace of clubs?" she asked, perplexed as to his actions.

"Just follow my lead." He placed the deck of cards back into his pocket as he strode up to the door of the house with an air of confidence and authority. She hurriedly followed behind. As expected, the officer stationed at the door moved to block their entrance. But before he could get a word in edgewise, Constantine lifted his six of diamonds card to show to the officer.

"I'm with the forensics team", he said, adopting a decent American accent. "The boss wants another sweep of the scene, check out if we missed anything."

The officer nodded with a bit of hesitation as he took in Constantine's story before giving Buffy a suspicious look.

Noticing his attention on Buffy, John spoke up, "She's with the CSI training program over at the university. Supposed to help on cases, get some field experience, you know how it is." He turned to give her a slightly knowing look. _The card, kid. Show him the goddamn card._

Buffy, remembering the card that Constantine had given her, immediately held it up to the officer and smiled. "It's a bit of hassle, but it gets me my college credits."

His doubts alleviated, he stepped aside and lifted the police tape to let the blonde duo in. Giving the officer a curt nod, the two of them stepped inside the house.

"Okay, that was awesome. What did you to those cards?", she asked, marveling at the magic she had seen. "Is it some kind of spell?"

"It's a spell, but not one of mine. The whole deck is charmed. It's got quite a bloody history, but the gist of it is that each card takes the appearance of whatever its holder needs."

He stopped his explanations as they took in the scene of the crime. What always surprised John about murder scenes was the serenity of the whole place. He always found that the chaos that comes with taking a life is always met with some form of subsequent peace. There was tape on the floor that outlined the place where the victim was found and numbers on the floor that indicated blood splatter, in this case only two drops.

Squatting near the outline of the body, he checked to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Sure, he felt a bit of a twat doing it, but he always trusted his own senses first. Magic may be a handy tool, but for John Constantine, it was always a means to an end not an end to a means. He learned that lesson the hard way at Newcastle. _It always goes back to Newcastle._

"It looks like our little fanged friend has a habit of cleaning up after himself", he said, spotting nothing out of the ordinary. "I should have just the thing. And make sure our fellow law enforcer doesn't interrupt."

"Are you going to do a spell?" Buffy asked as he set his carpetbag down on the coffee table.

"More or less, he responded as he quickly opened the leather bag and rummaged through. As Buffy watched the door for the officer outside, she peered back at the mage in a trench coat. She was quite curious to see what this "master of the dark arts" was going to do.

Removing what appeared to be a folded piece of yellow paper, he brought out his lighter and set the paper on fire. As the smoke from the smoldering paper billowed, he blew the fire away and began reciting a spell.

_"_ _Ximbatik kaajal ak bin-ka-aak-abtal"_

The smoke emanating from the burning paper seemed to increase as it began enveloping the room. Buffy's eyes widened as the wisps of smoke began to coalesce around them manifesting a scene in front of their very eyes.

A young man, who appeared to be in his early thirties, and a slightly older woman, who looks to be around forty, appeared from the smoke. The two figures were making out on the sofa, quite intensely. Trying to suppress her voyeuristic feelings at the sight unraveling in front of her, Buffy slowly recognized the woman as the last victim.

John hid a small smirk at Buffy's uncomfortable blushing as the two ghost-like figures started to moan passionately.

As the two figures moved onto the couch, the man slowly moved his mouth away from hers and started kissing downwards, _toward her neck._ The woman's expression seemed to change as the man's love bites turned into something else. Her face seemed to scream out in pain, but she made no noise. And the man appeared to be draining the life out of her, as if he was _sucking out her blood._

The man raised his face revealing two fangs protruding from his mouth, but unlike the usual vampires, revealed no vampiric face.

_That's weird. He's definitely a vamp, and he definitely gave her the vamp love-bite. But why didn't his face go all…lumpy?_

Buffy looked on in confusion as the smoke began to dissipate. John's face remained guarded as he dwelled on the recent developments. They both stood motionless for a few seconds before Buffy broke the silence.

"Did we just… Was that…?"

"Our victim's final moments? In short, yes." He said as packed up his bag. "It's a Mayan spell. Recreation of a scene via smoke. It comes in handy for these sorts of things."

"The face of that vampire, have you ever seen one that looked like that before?"

"No. No, I haven't. Which makes this all the more dangerous."

"Why is that?"

"Because it means I might have to stay here longer than I expected."

Raising an eyebrow, Buffy wondered what he meant by this. _He seems to want to get this whole thing over with quickly. And I doubt it's for the "greater good"._ Meanwhile, John reflected on Buffy's words as he recalled what Manny said to him earlier. _Whatever is behind these killings is not of this world._

"We're finished here. Come along, Summers." He quickened his pace out of the house, Buffy trailing behind. The sun had fully set over the horizon by now and darkness had flooded the town. John pondered this newest revelation to the case, as he sighed quietly to himself.

_There's always a bloody catch, eh?_

* * *

_The Previous Night_

Darius always had a love for the theatre. His earliest memories of being a child were that of watching the troubadours and actors and travelling performers as they wandered across the countryside of his homeland performing tales of wonder and adventure. They'd bring stories back from far off lands and perform them for his village. And at night when he'd close his eyes, he would dream of those stories. He'd dream of the splendor of Constantinople, the wealth of the Arab kingdoms, the holy cities of Jerusalem and the Levant, and the foreign traders of the Silk Road. He made a vow to himself there and then that one day he'd become an actor and travel the world, that he would see it all. In a way, it had come true.

He was always the best at playing human. The others never bothered to learn how to blend into a crowd. They relied quite a lot on seduction and individuality. Not that there was anything wrong with that. In fact, Darius did pretty much the same thing. The difference between him and the others is that they caught their prey reminiscent as to how a hawk catches its prey: swift and uncaring. They'd swoop in with full awareness as to what they were, indifferent if they stood out or not. Darius preferred to be the wolf in sheep's clothing. He'd connect with his prey and then drink up every ounce of them that he could. He never had to play the part, but he felt it made the act more intimate and romantic, almost like a work of theatre.

Such was the case for Emmeline. He'd met her over at the Bronze the other night, having failed to catch the attention of his intended prey. He recalled the brunette, Faith, and how she held as much temptation in her eyes as he held in his. It was a pity that he couldn't explore her further. But then, he spotted Emmeline and his hunger crawled back. She was alone and she was quite beautiful. Naturally, he was drawn to her. Silver-dyed hair, grey eyes, and a slim red dress. It fascinated him as to what lengths humanity would do to feel individual. To feel wanted. To feel alive. It fascinated him because in the end, he went the greatest length and here he was. Desiring to feel human more than anyone else that in doing so, he ceased to be.

Emmeline was wonderful. He managed to make a night out of their meeting. They went back to her place and together they acted out their parts, the lonely woman cast out of society by her own whims, the stranger from a strange land desiring to take her forever. And they did. Their lips met with the whispered dialogues of a thousand lovers from the pages of literature. It was like a play, the act itself. Every motion, every word, every gasp was intended to be an illusion, or a replication at least, of the real thing. Any iota of love or desire that was there or could have been there was buried under the weight of history, sonnets, pastiches.

_And like every good play, the end was guaranteed to bring surprise._

As she drifted off to sleep, he began a trail of kisses that started off on her lips, trailing down her cheeks and jawline as they made her way to the spot he craved, her neck. Just as he reached her vein, he quickly brought his fangs out and gave her the sweetest love-bite she would ever receive. It came as a shock to her, eyes fluttering open at the renewed ecstasy of the moment. But then she began to feel instantly faint, as if her life was bleeding out, as if he was literally sucking life out of her.

The last thing Emmeline would ever see was the sight of her lover, lips stained with _her blood_ , pressing one final kiss to her lips.

As he dressed he thought about the whole night and all its players. He hadn't forgotten about the sultry brunette who had left before her role could be explored, but he figured that he'd find her again. Looking at the lifeless body of Emmeline, he noted how a glass of water that was on her nightstand had spilled, breaking into pieces onto the floor.

_It's always the little things, in the end._

Leaving the house, he checked the time on his watch and noted that it was nearly sunrise. Making his way back to the others, he pondered a single question about the night's events.

_It's all theatre, regardless if it were to be tragedy or comedy. But did I play my part well?_


	8. After Hours

**Chapter 7: After Hours**

Buffy dwelled on the new developments in the case. She'd had to handle a lot in the time since she was called to be the Slayer, but a vampire like the one she just saw was a first. She knew that it was more or less an "aesthetic difference" compared to the vamps she was usually used to, but it still had her worried. _Is this a new type of vampire? Are there different types of vampires? And if there are how come Giles didn't know about this?_

Saving her questions for a better time, she looked to the tired-looking mage walking along next to her. How was it that he managed to always look unreadable? He was like a closed book that was locked and chained. A closed book that, if somehow opened, would turn out to be written in some strange and long-lost language. _What is this guy's deal? He's been helpful so far, but it looks like he doesn't even want to do all this._

John meanwhile, carried along with his usual unreadable expressions. As they carried on, he lit up another cigarette. As he puffed out the smoke from his Silk Cut, he thought about the implications that this case might have. Specifically, in the long term. _I might have to stay longer than I anticipated. Oh, bollocks. The last thing this lot need is some wanker like me attracting more shit than they can handle._

"Before, we get there I need you to tell me everything that happened last night."

"Everything?"

"Your interrogation with the vampire last night. Tell me everything."

"Well, I was on patrol in this part of town with Willow when we get ambushed by three vamps."

"You make it a habit of bringing your friends along to fight the undead?"

"They… can hold their own."

"Sure, they can." He scoffed, his usual sarcasm seeping through.

"Anyway, one of the vamps says that I would make a perfect present for the 'sovereign' and they attack me and Willow. I dust two of them and manage to knock the last one out and start to interrogate him. He wouldn't spill so I told Willow to get Faith over here to help. After a few minutes, he starts talking about how there's a new guy in town. How he's not like us. Any of us."

John took all this in as they neared the cemetery. All of this wasn't adding up. _The vampire we saw can't have been the only one responsible if the body count is as high as Giles said. Although, there was something about the vampire, something familiar. I can't be certain, yet._

"Then, out of nowhere there's a strong gust of wind and the vamp is just… dust. Like someone staked him. But there was no one else with us. Faith and I patrolled the area after and neither of us found anything."

"Hmm. It's not much. I don't know who offed your pal, but I suspect I know how he… bit the dust."

"That was awful. You do know that, right?", she replied, inwardly cringing at the pun.

"Yeah, well so am I", he said stepping on his finished cigarette. "As for the rest, there's not enough pieces yet. Best to crack on for now."

* * *

Buffy never liked patrolling Restfield Cemetery, not that she had a list of preferred cemeteries. But it was the farthest away from the town proper. It meant that getting there presented just as much opportunities for trouble as patrolling the area. Constantine seemed to take notice of her unnerved look.

"Two pence."

"Wha- Huh?" _Also, how does he always catch me off guard?_

"Two pence. For your thoughts." He said as they walked among the tombstones. "I don't have any pennies on me, so I hope British change is enough."

"It's nothing. It's just, I never liked this cemetery."

"As opposed to all the very lovely ones?"

"No, it's just that Restfield is the farthest away from the rest of the town."

"I see. Worried about what'll happen in the interim getting between here and the rest of town, eh?" _But that's not all that's bothering you._

"Yeah. Makes it harder to patrol." She shivered slightly as they made their way over to the spot where last night's interrogation occurred, the outside wall of a small tomb. "This is it. This is the spot."

John took a quick look around the outside of the mausoleum, placing his hand over it. He winced slightly as he felt a small sting on his upper left arm. Gripping it his arm, he realized that one of his tattoos, sacred protection sigils inked into his skin, had come to life. _Oh, bugger._

"What is it? What's wrong?" Buffy asked.

"One of my protection wards. Something's caused it to activate." He took a survey of their surroundings. Nothing much around them save for some gravestones and the mausoleum itself. "We're not alone here."

"What do we do?"

John raised his finger to his lips. There was a slight rustling from behind them, coming from the direction toward the gates. Buffy quickly drew out one of her stakes, as a small alarm awoke in the back of her head. Her Slayer senses were starting to pick something up. Something subtle.

Trying to peer through the darkness to see what his wards detected, John barely had time to register a flicker of movement that had crossed his line of sight. He turned his head to see where the figure had moved to. There was movement in the distance near one of the tombstones. The moonlight shone onto the figure only to illuminate its lack of form.

It appeared to be hovering slightly in place, no form, no detail. Only a deep gray tone was visible to the two as the figure dissipated into the night.

"What was that?" she breathed out.

"It looked like a wraith." He took a rag out of his pocket and started wrapping it around his hand. The wind started to pick up, blowing leaves across the whole area. "Move to the front of the crypt, quickly."

Buffy moved in front of the mausoleum's door, readying herself for whatever could come next. John slowly backed away, taking out his lighter as the wind began to change directions. The night then seemed to get darker as the moonlight noticeably dimmed and the wind started to howl. If the situation weren't so dangerous, he'd have laughed at that thought. _It always goes back to the old clichés, eh?_

Lighting the rag around his hand as darkness flooded the whole cemetery, he whispered into it. Buffy could barely make out a few words that sounded like Latin when a bright flash of light erupted from Constantine's hand.

Somewhere amidst the bright light a loud inhuman screech could be heard. As the flash dimmed slightly Buffy could just make out the broken face of what appeared to be a human skull but made from what looked like gray smoke or mist. John then stuck his hand out further, the light brightening into an exploding flash that dissipated the mist. The moonlight returned, the night sky being dotted once again with starlight.

Shaking the burning remnants of the rag away, he looked over to the wide-eyed expression on Buffy's face. "You alright then?"

"I'm fine." Shaking away her surprise, she put away her stake. "Why did I have to move in front of the door?"

"The icon of Michael, the first Archangel" He replied, pointing to the winged statue above the door. "It serves as a ward of protection against malevolent entities."

"Okay… and what the hell was that thing?"

"A wraith. A spirit turned violent, usually under the control of a mystic." He looked around the cemetery with caution. "Someone's not too keen on us being here. Someone with a lot of power."

_Now, that's just great. The last thing I need is word spreading that I'm here._

"The wind, that… that wraith thing. It was just like last night with the vamp."

"Is that so?" Turning to her, Constantine seemed to consider this piece of news. She could barely make out a flicker of worry on his face. It was brief however, as he picked up his bag.

"Well, if that's the case. Our work here is done", he started to walk toward the exit, Buffy quickly running to catch up with him. "If a wraith did off your blood-junkie, then that means whatever we're dealing with, vampire or otherwise, has access to some powerful necromancy."

"So, what now?"

"Well, we've got what we needed", he said, opening the cemetery gates before stepping aside to let her through. "Nothing much we can do now. We'll wait until tomorrow. Your Watcher should have the autopsy reports by then."

A long drawn out silence accompanied them on the walk back to town. Soon they saw the familiar lights of downtown Sunnydale.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" she asked as they neared the motel.

"Tomorrow, we meet up and plan", he said as lit up _another_ cigarette. "It's not my style, but I'm quite keen to get this over with as little fuss as possible, so for now I'll have to be a team player."

Raising her eyebrow at his comment, she opened her mouth to ask about it when she was silenced by his speaking.

"Right, I'm going to head back to the motel. I take it you can handle the walk home."

"Yeah, I'm fine." She nodded, finding herself unable to inquire about his off-handed comment.

"Good", he said stalking off toward the direction of the motel. "Well, g'night Summers."

* * *

She watched his shrinking outline as he walked down the street with a feeling of befuddlement and fascination. A walking mixture of contradictions all being held together by surliness, cigarettes and a trench coat. She was absolutely sure now that there was something weird about him _. It's like he's messing with my Slayer senses, just by being here. Like he's screwing with my head just by existing._

The mixture of stress and worry began to mix in her mind, bringing up thoughts she wished she could suppress. Her thoughts soon began to turn toward her vampiric ex-beau. She still didn't know what to do about Angel. For now, all she could do was continue to help him recover. But what then? She didn't trust the others enough to tell them that he was back, but she knew that she'd have to tell them at some point.

She had, for a fleeting moment, considered telling the Hellmouth's newest arrival about her situation. If it seemed foolish to her then, it was more so now. He was a complete stranger to her, and the fact that he messed with her Slayer senses didn't really help. But, she could tell that he was good at his job.

_He's made more progress in the last couple of hours, than the rest of us have in the last couple of weeks. He's not too attached to anyone here either._

_Maybe he could, I don't know…make sure that Angel actually has his soul. He must know some kind of spell or… something._

Sighing at the flurry of thoughts going through her head, she started to make her way back to her house. _Or maybe I'm just desperate._

* * *


	9. The Night's Still Young

**Chapter 8: The Night's Still Young**

The Bronze, despite being the only available party spot in Sunnydale, was doing pretty well tonight. The Thursday night crowd was bigger than Xander, Willow, and Oz expected it would be. Nevertheless, it served as a welcome distraction for all of them. The desire to relax and unwind in the face of their seemingly dead-end investigation was strong enough for them to go out for the first time in almost two weeks.

Sitting at their table, drinks in hand, they began to let the atmosphere lull them into a state of relaxation and distraction as they talked about the day's events. Or, in other words, they began to gossip. Specifically, about the Sunnydale's newest arrival.

"So, Willow, what do you think of that Constantine guy?" asked Xander, as he set down the group's drinks.

"He's… interesting." Willow replied. She didn't know what to think about the Englishman, other than the fact that he was a bit of a grump.

"That's certainly one way to put it." Xander sipped on his drink as he recalled their brief interaction with the exorcist, demonologist, and _master of the dark arts?_ "The dude's like a latter-day Spike."

"I wouldn't say he's that bad." Willow replied hesitantly, her thoughts going back to the mage's – _I won't be forgetting that anytime soon_ – rude rejection to teach her. "He's a bit more like… Oscar the Grouch, minus the living in a smelly garbage can."

"What's so bad about him?" asked Oz.

"Besides the fact that he's just a bit of an ass and smokes more than anyone I've ever known?" Xander replied as he sipped his drink. "It was like he was Giles' evil brother or something."

"So, he's like the anti-Giles?" Oz replied curtly as he took in the description of this 'Constantine' character.

"Yes!" Xander exclaimed. "Yes, he's exactly like that."

Willow sighed and began to tune out the conversation as she dwelled more on Constantine's rejection to teach her magic. She was hesitant to continue learning about the mystic arts on her own because of Giles' worry, but her curiosity for it was still rooted inside her. Maybe if she could somehow convince Mr. Constantine to teach her… _But he seemed so insistent not to. What was it he said? For the sake of my life and his "For the sake of your life…" What was that supposed to mean?_

"Willow? Willow?"

Oz's voice had shaken her out of her thoughts as her mind was brought back to the present.

"Yeah?" She replied airily.

"You kinda zoned out on us for a minute there." Oz said, with a slight look of worry on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah I'm fine. Just… just thinking." _No! Bad Willow! No more spacing out._

The worry that had developed on Xander and Oz's faces had somewhat mellowed out. She knew that they both cared deeply for her and the last couple of months had put a strain on all of them, with Buffy's running away. Not that they wanted to seem unappreciative of Buffy, but having to pick up the task of vampire slaying when she ran away made them understand the pressures involved with the job. _At least now we know why it's a destiny thing rather than a volunteer group._

* * *

Rupert Giles had never been so stressed before in his life. Having just managed to get the autopsy reports on all the victims, through no small effort, he was suddenly floored with the news that another body had been found with the same wounds as the other victims.

_That's just great. As if I haven't already got enough problems to worry about._

He'd have to wait for the autopsy to be performed before he could get his hands on the coroner's report. He had placed a lot of trust in John, so he hoped that now they could make some headway in the case.

_At least he seems to have a plan. For once._

If he wasn't used to John's unorthodox methods, he didn't blame himself. Even before his training at the Watcher's Academy stamped out the last of his rebellious behavior, he was wary of John Constantine's ways of work and life. He recalled the days when the self-professed "master of the dark arts" was no more than an ambitious self-taught student of the occult.

_Oh, how times change._

Sitting in the living room of his house, he kept the stack of reports of the other victims next to his briefcase as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. He wasn't that much of a whiskey drinker, but considering how the most haunting of his past specters has seemed to come back to terrorize him with the fact of his necessity, he figured that he'd need something a bit stronger for the night.

It was all completely justified. He didn't know how long his old student would be staying in Sunnydale, after all.

* * *

"Hey guys!"

The group turned to see the figure of one Cordelia Chase. The relationship between Willow and Cordelia was always rocky considering how she used to be the main reason Willow considered high school a living hell. That is until she found out about the whole "high school-being-on-the-center-of-the-Hellmouth" thing.

"Cordy!" Greeted Xander, as she sat next to him. "Just in time to join us for some R&R."

"Yeah, you guys have been working yourself to death lately." She said, sipping on her drink. "So, what's the what on the case?"

"Not much really. Buffy and Faith might have gotten a bit of information from a vamp last night", replied Xander, as he put her arm araound her.

"But it's the kind of information that's not exactly detailed or…clear", finished Willow. "But Giles brought in an old student of his from England to help, and he's supposed to be an expert on the occult."

"Yeah, we were just telling Oz about him.", said Xander with a slight edge to his voice. "If you guys were there, you'd get what I'm saying when I say that there's something really weird about him. And the fact that I'm getting the same vibe off him that I got off Spike."

"You're saying he's a vampire?" asked Cordelia with some concern and confusion.

"No, but he's blonde, English, wears a trench coat, and acts like a total dick so you can't blame me if I don't trust him." Xander responded.

"What's his name anyway?"

"Ah yes, that's another thing that's just… off about him."

"Huh?"

"His name is John Constantine." Explained Willow, having rolled her eyes at Xander's mini-tirade. "He's an exorcist, demonologist, and master of the dark arts."

"Or at least that's what it says on his business card." Replied Xander.

"Wait a sec. This guy has business cards?" asked Cordelia, incredulity seeping with each word.

Xander and Willow nodded silently, looking just as incredulous as Cordelia. The truth of the matter was, that they were all fascinated and disturbed by Sunnydale's latest arrival. He was an enigma to all of them. You had to see him to believe his existence.

"Hmmm." Oz, throughout the whole exchange between the other three had been sitting in quiet reflection, contemplating something in his mind.

"Oz, baby? What's wrong?" Willow asked, noticing his distracted look.

"Nothing. It's just I feel like I've heard that guy's name before."

"Mr. Constantine?" Willow asked, eyebrows raised. "What've you heard?"

"No, it's just he sounds familiar. Maybe something I've read…"

Willow, sighed at this additional bit of news. _How has Oz heard of him? As if this John Constantine wasn't complicated enough._

"Well, I just hope that Buffy's getting along well with him." she said, more out of self-assurance that Buffy could put a handle on this loose-cannon mage.

Little did she know how much that sentiment seemed to echo within the thoughts of her friends.

* * *

A good party is one where you can easily forget yourself, no matter how much the world outside of it pulls at you. Tonight however, was proving to be a bit different for a certain brown-haired Slayer. Given any other day, Faith would be in the zone. She was at a full-blown college party, her hair down, lipstick on, hips in full swing, tempting all the men with her come-hither stare. But that desire for distraction was somehow being stamped out. If she could only find out why, then she'd be gold, but since she didn't know why she was forcing herself into the energy and ecstasy of it all.

Music blaring from all sides, she put herself out onto the dance floor with every intent to get the turmoil of the last two weeks out of her head. Naturally, she drew a small crowd of men around her, all of them with a sparkle of lust in their eyes. She graced them with a smile that seemed to fan the flames of their desire even more.

_Good to see, that I've still got it. Even when my head ain't fully in the game._

She decided that what she needed was someone to show her a good time. A _real_ good time. Quickly scanning her surrounding admirers as they danced around her, she spotted a familiar face. Off to the side, sitting on one of the stairs was the same guy she saw at the Bronze last night. He was chatting up a girl who was sitting next to him.

_Figures. A guy that hot, clearly used to getting what he wants._

A renewed spark in her eyes caused her to saunter away from her crowd of devotees. She was curious to see what he could offer her. _The possibilities…_

Weaving her way through the crowd to the staircase, Faith saw that the girl he was talking to instantly stand up, pulling him along with her. She had a look of carnal fascination on her, while the guy just had a wide lustful smile on his face. She motioned him to follow her upstairs.

 _Probably getting a quick screw._ _Great, now what am I going to-_

Her thoughts were halted as the man stepped up and whispered into her ear. Eyes widening at whatever this guy had told her, she grabbed his outstretched hand and they both headed toward the door.

_Interesting. Probably going to take her home for one hell of a ride._

As they passed her, he managed to catch a glimpse of Faith. His face melted into the sort of grin that she'd seen on many a guy's face before. Then both he and his lover for the night were out the door and into the night.

Internally sighing at the sight of him walking away, she was suddenly thrust back into the chaotic environment of the party. She was all kinds of twisted up now, first with her encounter with the cocky Brit, and now with the loss of this mystery man, she was in no mood to party.

_Well, that's another night wasted._

Looking around her at all the frat boys and sorority girls and the rest of the university students with the happy-go-lucky look of glee and celebration in their eyes, she felt quite out of place. Deciding that it wasn't that great of a party after all, she decided to leave.

_Maybe I could get a slay in while the night's still young._

Walking back from the party, she let her thoughts drift to the man at the party. He seemed sexy enough, but she was channeling weird vibes from him. She didn't know if it was her Slayer sense or just the way he flirted, but she hadn't spoken a word to him. And yet she was drawn in. It was almost otherworldly.

And speaking of strange fascinations, the blonde Brit in the trench coat popped back into her mind again. Now he felt otherworldly in a completely different way. It was like the idea of subtlety just couldn't fit in with him. The vibes she got from him brought nothing but confusion. He was like a puzzle that she'd want to undress just to see how he'd take it. And the bastard was good with mind games too.

_Hell, he had me hook-line-and sinker in two minutes._

But she knew it was probably best not to sleep with the Columbo wannabe, however hot he was. Faith liked things she could understand, and every bone in her body was telling her that this guy was just far too complicated for her liking. She'd probably get confused as to whether or not to kill him or to fuck him.

_I just have to avoid him. He shouldn't be too much of a problem._

Feeling the weight of Slayer life on her head as she neared Sunnydale Graveyard, she saw a gang of vamps stalking the gravestones. Smiling to herself, she got out one of her stakes.

_Time to get my head back in the game._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an interesting (challenging) chapter to write, because of the absence of Buffy and Constantine. It was also challenging because of my limited knowledge of Buffyspeak, so if it feels a bit awkward it's probably those two factors. Otherwise, it was quite fun to write.


	10. In the Court of the Crimson King

**Chapter 9: In the Court of the Crimson King**

Darius always had an affinity for the sunrise. It was odd, especially for a vampire, but ever since he was a small child he loved watching the early hours of dawn. But things changed, the world changed, and he changed most of all. He eventually got used to the fact that he would never again be able to bask in the morning rays of sunlight. It was worth it considering he was practically immortal, but he adapted. He found ways to watch the sunrise.

And as he watched the rising sun from the shadows of one of Sunnydale's many crypts, he smiled contently at the unconscious woman at his feet. He'd met her at some party during the night and she seemed quite delicious. She would be a nice addition to the rest of the herd. After all, they needed to keep their supply of livestock up in the event of a crisis. A sultry voice brought reality back to his mind.

"Ah, there you are Darius."

Darius smiled as he turned to greet his compatriot. "Hello, Mary. Come to watch the sunrise with me?"

Mary had served with Darius for a while. She was one of the few among the vampires that he respected as much as their ruler.

"Now, why would I desire to watch the appearance of the one thing in all the universe that has the power to kill me?"

"Because it's beautiful." _Because it's the one thing keeping us from eternity. True eternity._

"Always the romantic, Darius." Mary said stepping away from the tunnel entrance. "It's a dangerous habit you know."

"What, watching the dawn break or being a romantic?"

"Is there a difference?" She said, glancing at the woman lying asleep in front of Darius. "A new sheep for the flock I'm guessing?"

"Our presence hasn't gone unnoticed. We need to make sure our reserves are fully stocked."

"Oh, you worry too much." She chided him as she examined the unconscious specimen at his feet. "At least your choice of meat is in good taste. Some of the ones that the others have brought back are simply atrocious."

"Hah! I may be a romantic, but at least I'm not picky when it comes to my meals." _It's true enough. I may put on the act and I may cast my players as I see fit, but at it least it comes from a sense of theatre rather than hunger._

"It's only for the best interests of our kinsmen. The kingdom would surely fall if we only feasted on the sickly ones."

"So long as there are humans, there'll be opportunities my dear. And besides, our master doesn't seem so concerned with such." He grinned, picking up the girl and throwing her over his shoulder.

_But I bet he would appreciate the full-lipped brunette, Faith._

"Speaking of His Majesty, we should return to the others now. They'll be waiting."

"You do know what it means to be an advisor of the King, don't you? It means that we're higher than all the others. So long as we don't disobey him, our master won't care what we do."

"Forgive me for my concern", sarcasm dripping from her voice. "I've not been a vampire for nearly as long as you have. But forgive me if prefer to be safe than sorry."

She stepped aside to let him enter the tunnel to the sewer system. It wasn't the most pleasant form of passage throughout the city, but it was the safest for them. Rolling his eyes, Darius jumped down into the tunnel, his fellow court advisor following closely behind.

* * *

Darius and Mary, while amicable associates, never really considered themselves friends. As the trusted advisers of His Majesty, they never really had the time to connect, save for the orgies. Their conversations usually ended in a stunted silence. And that seemed to be the case now, as silence seemed to overtake the two vampires hand in hand as they navigated the sewers of Sunnydale High. That is, however, until it was broken by Mary.

"It's possible that we may have a problem."

Raising an eyebrow at this, he responded "A problem?"

"Yes. One of the wraiths that we sent out to monitor the activities of the Chosen One…"

"Yes…?"

"One of them has failed to report back."

"Oh, is that it?" _Always seeing problems where there aren't, eh._

"It could be nothing, but one of the witches detected the presence of a powerful confluence of magic arriving on the Mouth of Hell a few days ago."

"A confluence?" _Perhaps this could be something._

"According to them it all remains unclear. But one of them broke down just last night." She said, worry becoming slightly more evident in her tone. "She just kept on whispering something over and over again. A phrase. I think whatever it is she kept moaning on about could be responsible."

He stopped, turning to face her as he asked, "What did she say?"

"She just whispered a single phrase, _'The Constant One_ ', repeatedly. That's all she would say."

He reflected on this. Interferences, especially those of a magical nature were always difficult to deal with. "I'll inform His Majesty about this. But not just yet. We need more information first."

Nodding at his words, she began to continue on, as Darius slightly trailed behind so he could think upon this news.

_The Constant One. Now whatever could that mean?_

* * *

Sunnydale's sewer system wasn't complicated, or at least it was no more complicated than that of any other American town. However, what made it unique was its offshoots, its hidden passageways, its interconnected tunnels. In the days before the Spanish colonization of the area, the local Chumash tribes knew of an ancient system of caves and network tunnels underneath the whole area. It was regarded by the natives as the gateway to the First World Below, the world from which the monsters and demons lived. When the first Spanish Missionaries arrived in the area, they named it the "Boca del Infierno", or "Mouth of Hell".

It was amidst this network of tunnels, caves, and sewers that His Majesty laid the foundations for a new colony for his kingdom. Making their way through the myriad network of sewers that became tunnels that became caverns, Darius and Mary arrived at the hub of their new colony. It used to be a Catholic mission, but the unpredictability of nature swallowed up this old church and now it lay underground. A relic of a holy past now become the capitol of a sinful empire.

"Darius, my dear. I missed you last night."

"My liege," he responded trying to contain his lust at the sound of his master's voice, "I apologize. Needs must when the devil drives."

"Of course, it does. Of course, it does." The figure of His Majesty stepped from the darkness of his throne, the spot where the sacristy would have once been. "Speaking of needs…"

He moved forward placing a gentle kiss to Darius. He reciprocated with all the fervor he had left in him. Smiling as he pulled away, "You always know how to greet a lover, my liege."

"And you always know how to please one." He grinned, looking down at the sleeping girl Darius had placed before him. "Ah, now what do we have here?"

"Another one for our herd. I noticed we were running low." He said pushing a strand of her away from her sleeping face. Looking up at the face of his master, he asked, "Did you want to take stock of her yourself?"

His Majesty smiled, placing a quick kiss on Darius's lips. "No, no. I'm sure she's fit enough for our herd." He gestured to two of the slave-vampires to take her away.

Nodding in fear, the two half-breeds carried her to the holding pens. There was no temptation on their part to try and drink the girl's blood. They knew the power that the Sovereign held, and they dared not try and impede his will. Such actions would lead to dire consequences.

"Now, Darius", his master said with his usual tone of confidence and lust. "You really should take your mind off work."

"I think it would be irresponsible of me, if I were to let that happen."

"Irresponsible? You realize that you're a vampire, and not one of those squalid half-breeds that this world has spewed out, a **real** vampire." He held Darius' hand in his. "Live a little, my love. You've got all the time in the world."

Pressing another kiss to his lips, Darius let himself be undone by his master. All thoughts of the kingdom, of the danger presented by the 'Constant One', dissipated. His distractions seemed to peel away from him. Eyes closing as their tongues danced across each other's, they remained connected as his master led them to Mary and the others.

Breaking their kiss for a moment, readying themselves for another day of shared lust amongst his people, he whispered into Darius's ear, "I expect no less from my right-hand man."

Looking into the eyes of his master, all thoughts of control were lost. _He's right. He's always right. Sometimes, I lose myself in playing the part. Life never ends for me, I need him to remind me of that._ As the other vampires readied themselves for the orgy, he gasped with an unquenchable desire, "Long live the King."

To those words, the King of the Vampires could only smile.

_Long live the King, indeed._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! The unveiling of the Big Bad! Because what better way to crossover Buffy and Hellblazer than with the infamous King of the Vampires?
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the King of the Vampires, he has a short-lived appearance in Hellblazer issues #50, #68, and #69. I should also mention that vampires in the DC/Vertigo universe are quite different from Buffyverse vampires.


	11. Points of Convergence (No.1)

**Chapter 10: Points of Convergence (No. 1)**

The alarm clock blared loudly than John would've liked it to. Eyes peeling open at the sight of the motel clock's digitized numbers, he got up groggily. If it weren't for the nightmares that plagued him every night, he would consider it a restful sleep. But then again, he was far too knackered to toss and turn amidst the memories of that night. Sitting up on the bed, he only realized just then how late he had slept in when he realized it was almost noon.

_Bollocks. I was supposed to meet up with them an hour ago._

He got up and went over to his suitcase to grab some fresh clothes. As he cleaned himself up, he prepared himself mentally for the day ahead. It seemed that he'd made some real progress last night, or at least more than the Slaying Saints of Sunnydale had. Given the facts of the case, he figured that it couldn't be just a solitary vampire responsible. They were probably dealing with a nest. But at the moment, it was the furthest thought from Constantine's mind.

_If whoever is leading this nest has a helluva lot of power if they're capable of controlling a wraith._

After a quick shower, he donned his usual attire, a white shirt, black slacks, and a tie. Feeling a bit less dead inside, but only a bit, he lit up his first cigarette of the day. Putting on his trench coat, and grabbing his carpetbag he sauntered out the door, slamming it behind him.

_Once more unto the breach._

* * *

The sound of a door slamming shook Faith out of her sleep instantly. Sitting up, scanning the room around her, she breathed a small sigh of relief. Ever since the incident with Kakistos, she'd been paranoid about a repeat event happening with another vampire. Thankfully that hadn't happened yet. Figuring that she might as well get ready for the day now that she was up, she got out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Or what was left of it.

Last night's patrol went on longer than she expected. And it wasn't as if she was a morning person. A nice long shower erased the last few bits of tension and stress from the previous days. Putting on a tight, sleeveless black shirt and a pair of denim shorts, she caught a look of herself in the mirror.

_Faith Lehane, you are looking five by five._

Ready for the day, smile plastered on her face and her attitude in better spirits than before, she made her way to Sunnydale High.

_Better see what the Scoobies are up to._

* * *

Stepping into the halls of Sunnydale High during school hours proved to be annoying for John to no end. He clearly stood out, what with the coat, and whether-beaten look, and dour expression, and the fact that he was clearly not a high school student. Ever the outsider, John lit up another cigarette as he walked through the school hallway to the library.

_Because why the hell not?_

Opening the doors, he stepped through and was greeted by the sight of Giles, Buffy Summers, and her two sidekicks – _whose names escape me at the moment_ – already in what appeared to be wrapped up in discussion.

"Ah, John it's about time you got here", said Giles, with subtle annoyance. "Buffy was just about to recount to us the events of last night."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get on with it shall we?"

"Right, well as Buffy was just saying, you two had an encounter with a spirit over Cemetery correct?"

"That's right. A wraith."

"A wraith? Good heavens! Are you sure?" asked Giles. He had every reason to be nervous at this bit of news.

"As sure as can be." John said leaning on the checkout counter. "I know necromancy when I see it, hell I've used it a few times myself."

_That was one hell of a holiday. But then again, Jerusalem isn't exactly the best place to be experimenting with cocaine and black magic._

Putting out the remnants of his cigarette in the cup of coffee on Giles' desk, which only earned him death stares from his old teacher, he began recounting the events of the patrol in the cemetery. As he and Buffy recounted their tale, he could notice the overexcited redhead from yesterday listening with the same studious ambition that he once had at that age.

"And how exactly did you manage to get your hands on a shroud of Moses' robe?" Giles asked, upon hearing how he managed to defeat the wraith.

"It's called having mates, grandad." _Okay, maybe calling Midnite a 'friend' is a bit of a stretch._

Rolling his eyes at Constantine's words, but inwardly worried at what his old friend has been doing since they last spoke, he carried on.

"Right. And if what you claim is true, which I must admit is starting to seem as such, then we're dealing with a large nest of vampires. Or at least a group who have the employ of dark magic practitioners."

"Really?" asked Willow, with a mix of worry and morbid fascination. "How can you tell that?"

"Wraiths, in general, are usually ghosts trapped on this plane of existence", explained Constantine. "By themselves, these spirits aren't harmful – "

"But they only become wraiths when the darker remnants of their soul are corrupted", completed Giles, earning a passive-aggressive look from John. "The type of dark magics that are needed to elicit such control belong to the realm of necromancy."

Willow took all this information in, her curiosity only increasing with every explanation given by the two Englishmen.

"That's not all there is, chief." John said with a bit of worry in his voice. Turning to Buffy, he asked, "Did you tell him yet?"

"Tell me what?" asked Giles.

"When Summers and I stopped by at the last victim's house, I used a spell to get a profile of the vampire responsible, and..."

"Giles," Buffy continued. "He didn't look like any vampire I've ever seen before."

Looking back and forth between the two, confusion marring his face he asked her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he didn't have the half-demony face, or the yellow eyes. He looked almost normal, besides the fangs."

"I see. You think we may dealing with some new… breed of vampire."

The guarded look on John's face told Giles everything he wanted to hear, but didn't want to know.

"Wait a minute", interrupted Xander, "there are different types of vampires? How come we didn't know about this?"

"Because there aren't. At least not according to all the research that the Council has done on them." Giles said wiping his glasses for the umpteenth time. "While there are references to an ancient type of vampire called the Turok-Han, most demonologists have claimed to be nonexistent. And those that believe them to have once existed are also sure that they're extinct. But as of yet, no evidence has been found that would lead to the conclusion of another species of vampire."

"Yes, because you can always depend on dusty old tomes to yield the truth." John replied sarcastically. _You always did place too much trust in those books, Giles._

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at John's remarks, Giles took out the stack of autopsy reports and placed them on the table. "Yes, well here are the autopsy reports that you had wanted. If you want to gleam through them to get any information…" He gestured his hand to the manila envelopes.

As John sat down and began leafing through the twenty-seven autopsy reports– _Christ, this job can be so shite at times_ – that he had to read through, Giles continued, "Also, to add to our difficulties, another body has been found."

The tension and nervousness that descended on the room seemed to crawl onto everyone's face, save for John. Ever since Newcastle, he never physically displayed his feelings unless he wanted to _. I prefer to internalize all that crap. A side-effect of being British, I suppose._

"Another body?" exclaimed Willow.

"Yes, a student over at the university. Her body was found in the room of her apartment."

"How come you didn't think to start us off with that bit of news?" Xander asked, worry marring his face.

"Yeah", exclaimed Buffy, "I think we should've got the memo about this first." She tried to mask her guilt at this revelation. _Great. Another person I couldn't save._

"I wanted to make sure that everyone was here, before I broke the news." Giles said. "Speaking of which, we should wait for Faith to arrive. Update her on the new developments."

Buffy took a glance at the grumpy-looking exorcist, who had seemed to tune out the conversation and was now reading and sifting through a whole mess of papers.

_Well, "new development" is one way of putting him. Maybe Faith can get a handle on this guy._

"You're probably right, Giles." She said, realizing the truth of his actions and being too tired to argue. "Have you found anything, yet Mr. Constantine?"

The magus just looked up at her with an eyebrow raised, a hard look in his eyes. _Geez, what is this guy's problem? It's not like I've asked him why he acts like he's got a stick up his –_

"Stop calling me that. Reminds me too much of me dad."

Buffy, Willow, and Xander all looked perplexed at this explanation. Giles looked up in surprise. Despite all the years that they've known each other, he knew very little of John's family and childhood. In fact, it was the first time he's ever referenced his dad in front of him.

"Okay", said Xander hesitantly. "So, what do we call you oh, great master of the dark arts."

"Just 'John' is fine." He removed another autopsy report and quickly skimmed through it. "Also, I should say that I'm more of a petty dabbler."

"Petty dabbler?" asked Willow, slightly confused. _So, he's not a real mage?_

"Calling myself a 'Master of the Dark Arts' makes me sound like a pretentious wank. And I do hate to put on airs…" he drifted off as he focused on something in the autopsy.

"What is it John?" Giles asked, hopeful he had found something in the autopsy.

"The hospital administrator. It says here that the cause of death is suicide." He said, absently as if something had clicked in his head.

"Y-yes. Dr. Julian Espinoza." Giles explained. "His body was discovered with a revolver in hand. Obviously, any evidence of it being related to the recent string of killings has been dismissed by the police."

"Interesting…" he drifted off. John was suspicious now. _There's more to this than I expected._

Returning to his study of the autopsy reports, the Scoobies deflated in exasperation seeing that their consulting occultist neglected to reveal his thoughts to them. Their exasperation was soon replaced with surprise as they heard the doors to the library open.

The four of them turned to look at the new arrival, while John only took a quick glance. He smiled slightly, and looked back down, obscuring his face from the new arrival's view.

_Ah, the brown-eyed Slayer. This ought to be fun._

* * *

Faith felt five by five, or as five by five as she could feel knowing that there was some a-hole vamp out there who had managed to get the better of **two** slayers. Having left her motel room, hoping to avoid Columbo's evil English twin, she arrived at Sunnydale High. Navigating the halls to the school library, he could hear the Scoobies already in discussion.

Pushing open the doors of the library, she was greeted by the slightly surprised faces of Giles, Xander, Willow, and Buffy.

"Hey, B! What's the sitch on our mystery vamp? Got any new leads?" Faith asked, strutting into the library toward the group.

"We've managed to make a bit of headway. Giles was able to get some help from a friend of his. And trust me he's really good with the supernatural stuff."

"Oh? So, who is it? Some fuddy-duddy Watcher?" she asked skeptical of who this new player in the game might be.

"On the contrary, he's an invaluable ally, if not a source of perpetual annoyance." Expounded Giles, as he turned to the figure sat on the table, back toward her. He seemed to be reading through, what she considered, a shit-ton of paperwork.

"What can I say, chief? I have a reputation to maintain."

Her eyes widened significantly at the stranger's remark. She'd heard that voice before.

_No way. No freaking way._

The man got up and turned to face her. The grin plastered across his face almost set her on fire. It was the same one that managed to play her yesterday afternoon.

"Nice to see you again, luv." The blonde Englishman greeted her. "I'm guessing you're Faith?"

If Faith could see her own face right now, she'd have been greeted with the sight of herself torn between shock and outrage. Either way, she was as speechless as she had been yesterday.

"I know that I have a certain way with the ladies, but I've never made on speechless before." He said in a tone laced with mischief.

"How did… who… what… why the hell is this bastard here?" She exploded. _The last thing I need is more surprises in the form of sexy dickheads._

"Wait, you two have already met?" asked Buffy. _Man, this guy gets around._

"Oh, we've met alright." Faith thought back to the weird feeling she got around this guy. It was disturbingly fascinating to say the least. She was feeling it again.

"And what a meeting it was. Shame we didn't take the time to introduce ourselves properly", he remarked, eyes sparkling with that all-knowing look. Reaching into his pocket, he removed a business card. "Allow me to fix that, luv."

She was handed a business card, which was something she didn't expect from an _exorcist? What the hell? Is this guy for real?_ "So, John Constanteen –"

"That's Constan **tine**. T-I-N-E. Rhymes with fine." He said with undisguised annoyance.

_It most certainly does,_ she thought, as her eyes scanned him up and down. _Just 'cause I don't trust the guy doesn't mean I can't enjoy a hot piece of ass when I see it._

"You really as good as B says you are?" Being a Slayer, meant that she was aware of the supernatural. But she was skeptical about what this guy could do. _He didn't look like much. Hell, the dude dresses like a Watcher gone rogue. Or an alcoholic tax accountant._

"I'm wounded that you'd think otherwise. You certainly seemed to trust me yesterday."

"Earning my trust goes a long way, pal." She crossed her arms in defiance.

"Considering that I managed to get, what I suspect is your lot's first lead, I think I deserve the benefit of the doubt."

The two seemed to have stepped closer to each other as they verbally sparred, or flirted if you asked anyone else in the room. Going from a look of suspicion to one of fascination, with a hint of that flirtatious nature she was known for, Faith seemed for the first time in her life morbidly curious about someone. Not something, _someone._

Having watched the whole exchange, the other Scoobies felt a tad bit uncomfortable. If one of them didn't do something soon, total bedlam would erupt soon.

"Ah…um…Faith, now that you're here I can update you on all the recent developments." Giles said, back in full Watcher mode in the hopes of regaining some civility. "Another body has been found. But John, here has successfully identified the culprit as a possibly new breed of vampire."

Faith taking the information in, but still staring down the charismatic mage, nodded at the news. Being the first to tear her eyes away from the stare-fest going down between them, she turned to Giles and asked, "A new breed of vamps? That's new."

"Well, that certainly seems to be the theme of this case." John responded, turning back to look at the table of papers. "And now that we've been introduced, we can finally decide on our next move."

"Yes, that's something I'd like to get to as well." Giles said. He was grateful for even the tiniest bit of cooperation from the magus. "The first thing we should do is try to see if we can garner any information from the recent murder."

"Good idea, chief." He said, taking out his pack of Silk Cuts. "I think you're more than capable of handling that, unless you've gotten sloppy in your advanced age."

"I can assure you John, my skills in the mystic arts are as strong as they ever were." Giles responded irately.

"That's a shame. It'll have to do." He said lighting his cigarette, blowing smoke all over the room. "Red, you said you dabbled a bit in the mystic arts? It's best that you go with the old codger. A bit of youthful perspective might do him good."

Willow nodded, finding herself acquiescing to the exorcist's command, while Giles sighed at Constantine's insulting behavior.

"Ms. Summers, when you're patrolling tonight take extra care. If you see something unfamiliar, don't try to engage it in battle." He advised, his defenses lowering for a minute to emphasize the importance of this. Pointing to Xander, he continued. "Take your lad, along. I don't know how good he is in combat, but it'll be better to have an extra set of eyes just in case."

Buffy nodded in agreement. She might not have fully trusted Constantine, but she was confident that he at least wasn't incompetent. And if it meant not having to spend another length of time with him, she'd take it.

"And as for you, luv," he said turning to the rebellious brunette, "you and I will have a little peek around Sunnydale General. I've got a feeling that someone doesn't want to find out the truth about our deceased doc."

"Hold on a minute there, English." She said, stepping up in front of him. "What exactly gives you the right to call all the shots, huh?"

"Not a bloody thing, luv." He said, squaring his shoulders as he stared her down. "Nothing's keeping me here, but if you lot think that you can handle the situation without my help, then I'll just pop back to New York first thing tomorrow."

"No, John please." Giles interrupted. "We need you here, especially given the unknown nature of this new threat." _This better be worth the trouble that is sure to follow._

Eyes darting back and forth between his former teacher and the stubborn-looking slayer, he responded, "Calm your arse, chief. You asked me to be help out, I'm helping out." _She's gonna be one helluva challenge. I like her already._

The school bell rung signaling that the students' lunch break was over. Buffy, Xander, and Willow all started to get up and leave., when Constantine spoke up once more to them.

"When you lot have finished with your studies, get on ahead with the plan. The sooner we find more information, the sooner we can put an end to all this bedlam."

"Don't worry, mate", responded Xander, placing an unflattering imitation of John's accent on 'mate', "We got this taken care of."

Rolling their eyes at Xander's quips, Buffy and Willow both ushered Xander out of the library along with them.

"Now, Giles, that list of vampires that the Council sent you, I'd like to see it. I have my own theory about this, but I'm not willing to take any major steps in confronting the bloodsuckers that are behind this until I've got some confirmation."

"Of course. Let me get the list for you." Giles looked unnerved at the implications of John's words. _This case is starting to turn very left-field, even for us_. He stepped back into his office to retrieve the list for John.

Turning toward Faith, he took a breath. _And then there were two._

"Now then, Faith, I can tell you're not one to take orders from strangers."

"More like, I'm not a fan in placing my life in the hands of random English ass-hats."

"Fair enough," he countered, "but I will need your help for this. So, if you do find it within your pretty little heart to trust me, I promise you that I won't step on your shoes. Deal?"

She raised his eyebrow at him, considering the offer. Thinking back to the weird feeling she felt yesterday, and just how much more emphasized it seemed to be today, she was unnerved to say the least. This guy was going to be difficult to be around, let alone work with. But she wasn't one to back down from a challenge. And if it all meant getting one step closer to slaying the big bad, then what could go wrong?

"Deal." She said, curtly. _So much for avoiding this guy, but maybe that's not a bad thing._

* * *

"Lovely." He replied, just as Giles stepped back out with the list. "I've to make a few calls before we can press on. So, what say you we meet up at the motel around 4 before we head on over to the hospital?"

"Five by five, English. See you in a few." She said, sauntering out of the library putting a little bit of sway in her hips, just for the possibility that it'd get him all hot and bothered. She'd never know just how much it had worked.

_Bloody hell, John. Get a hold of yourself._

Watching her as she left the library, he had to give it to her. She could definitely hold her own against his "charming" attitude, which was very rare these days. The last few years have made him more of a grumpy sod than he usually was. Shaking himself out of those thoughts, he got out his mobile phone from his pocket. He needed to make one or two inquiries before he could carry out his plan.

_First on the list, Jason Blood. Here's to hoping I don't receive the usual "fuck off" from him._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes. John Constantine and Faith Lehane. Two different sides of the same intensely messed up coin. But I do love writing their interactions. Also, I went the traditional route of using the original intended pronunciation of Constantine rather than the American pronunciation in an effort to emphasize that while there are aesthetic elements from the show, this is mostly based off comic book Constantine. 
> 
> And yes, those were shout-outs to Papa Midnite and Etrigan the Demon.


	12. Unpleasant Realizations

**Chapter 11: Unpleasant Realizations**

"You sure?... I was afraid of that… Yeah, all right. Thanks, Pharamond. Take care, and best of luck with that contract. Ta." _Bollocks._

Giles was leaning on the check-out counter having watched his old student exchange words with one of several "contacts". Naturally he recognized some of the names he'd mentioned. _How John had managed to get these individuals as contacts is beyond me._

"Did you find the confirmation that you were looking for?" asked Giles, curious as to what possible menace his former student had in mind who was so obscure that it required confirmation from a former knight of Camelot and a retired Babylonian god.

"Unfortunately, I have." He said as he sat back down, rubbing his forehead. "Christ, I hate it when I'm right."

Raising his eyebrow at this, Giles began to be filled with a sense of dread. He had known John for many years, and in all that time never had the punk-turned-mage admitted to being even the slightest bit daunted by what the supernatural had tossed at him. Not even that night at Newcastle. Dread mixed with guilt and started to produce reflections that he wished he could rid himself of.

_I should have been there to help. Maybe if I was there, she wouldn't have been taken. And maybe John wouldn't be where he is now._

Thoughts of the past were quickly lost as he had realized that John had yet to reveal what he had learned. Giles knew that John was never the best team player, even before Newcastle. He'd tried to make peace with him before, but he received a succinct "piss off" from his old friend. It was clear he was still bitter about Ravenscar.

So, he reverted to old methods of conflict.

"Well, do you mind enlightening me to your revelations? Considering all the trouble that I've gone through to get to this point, I would like to be informed." replied Giles, as pointedly as he could make himself sound.

_No, you bloody wouldn't mate._ John stared at this former master in silence. He was very hesitant to reveal the confirmation of his suspicions. But he figured that he couldn't put it off forever…

_Oh, sod it._

"Very well."

* * *

Buffy was stepping out of her last class of the day, a flurry of thoughts racing through her head. The first being, what she should do about Angel. She had some extra time after class so she figured that she could meet up with Xander after stopping by to see Angel. That wasn't too much of a problem, but she began to internally debate if she should tell Constantine about him. She was hesitant, but perhaps if she explained it as best as she could…?

_Ah, who am I kidding? That's a terrible idea. I mean, it could be. He is an occult_ _**expert** _ _. I should probably run it by Angel first and see what he thinks._

She knew that was probably the best course of action. She was already keeping enough secrets as it was. Having reached somewhat of a conclusion to one of her problems, which as far as she was concerned was good enough for her, she searched for something else to take her mind off things. She had already told Xander when to meet up for patrol, so she debated whether to go to Angel's mansion right now, or do a bit of training before heading out.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Faith head toward her.

"Hey B!"

"Oh, hey Faith."

"Gee, you don't have to sound so excited to see me", she playfully replied.

"Sorry", Buffy responded, not meaning to offend her fellow Slayer. "It's just I have a lot of my mind with school and all."

"I get that. Sort of. I mean I dropped out for a lot of reasons." Faith responded.

"Yeah, well I don't exactly have that option." She said, as they both walked together toward Buffy's locker. "Plus, with the recent killings and having to go double-time on patrol…"

"Hey, I hear you there. It's not like I've got the short end of the stick either."

"I know. And then there's the resident Humphrey Bogart." Buffy sighed as she thought of the mix of cigarettes, grumpiness, and Britishness that seemed to somehow tamper with her Slayer sense.

"Yeah, Mr. Trenchcoat back there was definitely…something." Faith breathed out, failing to think of any words that could describe the blonde-haired Brit accurately.

Buffy turned to the brunette, curious about what she had to say about the mage. From what she saw of Faith and John's interaction at the library, she could tell that there was something there. _I think for now "something" is the closest we're going to get to describing him._

"So, speaking of John Constantine, what was all that about back in the library?" she asked trying her hardest not to sound to coy.

"Nothing too important." She replied with a bit of a tone to her voice. "It's just… the ass-hat played me. I mean I don't know if he can do some weird mojo thing, but I just… I just got this weird feeling when I was talking to him."

Now Buffy was intrigued. "Weird feeling? What kind of weird feeling?"

_So, it wasn't just in my head after all..._

"I don't know. It was like I couldn't make sense of him, you know? Like I could feel my Slayer sense get all scrambled just by being near him." She replied just a bit unnerved.

"Really? I felt the same when I first met him. It was like my head was telling me that he was a baddie, but at the same time… wasn't? I know it sounds messed up but you get what I'm saying, right?"

"Yeah, I get you." She replied, know having a better perspective on the wonky feeling she got around him. "And I also got this weird tingly feeling when we touched – "

"Wait, a minute" interrupted Buffy, having finished packing her things in her locker. "You two touched? What sort of touching are we talking about?" _I knew what happened earlier in the library wasn't just nothing._

"He just grabbed my arm. I dropped one of my stakes and he handed it back to me." She responded feeling more than a bit uncomfortable being the one all flustered when being questioned about a guy. Especially considering the finer details around their first encounter.

Nodding at that response, and sensing how uncomfortable she was she decided to drop the subject of it. But she was still curious about what Faith thought about Constantine for obvious reasons. She hadn't known Faith for too long, but she could tell that Faith wasn't one to be easily put off kilter. The fact that the likes of John Constantine could succeed where so many others just seemed so… odd.

"So, you agree then that there's something really off about the guy?"

"Yeah, definitely." She responded, hoping to quash all memories of her scattered instincts coupled with that weird tingly warmth.

"And what was that you were saying? Something about a 'weird tingly feeling' or something?"

"It was nothing." Faith responded, instantly regretting mentioning just how much her new neighbor bothered her and willing herself not to blush at the thought.

"Uh-huh", Buffy nodded, slightly relishing that she had the upper hand over Faith when it came to feelings over a guy. _Okay, not entirely if you count the whole 'Angel is back from hell" thing, but still..._

"So, what's the deal between him and Giles?" Faith asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her. "You'd think for a moment that he was Giles's kid instead of his teacher."

"I know. When I asked if there was anyone he could call who could help out, he was hesitant to mention him. Like he made him nervous and afraid."

"Well, we've already established that the dude is freaky as hell."

"Fair point." She replied, recalling the mage's ability to puzzle just by being. "But it's almost like there's something else."

"Didn't you say that Giles had a bit of a history tinkering with magic? And that guy you mentioned who went all 'Halloween horror' on the town, Ethan something?"

"Ethan Rayne."

"Yeah, him. You said Giles spent some time as a rebel himself. My guess is whatever drama's going on between your Watcher and Johnny boy is probably to do with magic."

Buffy thought about Faith's words. She made a fair point. Considering how Giles used to teach the guy magic, it made sense. Coupled with the fact that whenever her Watcher's past caught up with him it always seemed mystical. Maybe they did have some sort falling out over some magical incident.

_It could explain why he seems to be in a hurry to get this case over and done with._

But the level of tension and anger that seemed to come from John made him look almost homicidal. Either Giles did something really bad to piss him off or there was something else that John was keen on keeping a secret.

Sighing as she walked along with Faith, she couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

* * *

In Giles's line of work, dealing with the supernatural was always something that you never quite gotten used to. Sure, the fact that he was a mentor, trainer, and researcher for a teenage girl destined to fight the vampires, demons, and monsters of this world was something he'd gotten used to, but it was always the nuanced details of his career that always managed to shake him. His former student's revelation for instance, was one such detail.

"Are you sure?" Giles asked. He was nervous enough not knowing what was behind their recent troubles in Sunnydale.

"Not a hundred percent, but from what my sources tell me all this sounds like something he'd do." John said, taking out a hip flask from his coat pocket and taking a swig. "That whole business with the hospital administrator though, there's something else to that."

"What makes you think so?" Giles questioned.

"The history behind how he operates is pretty detailed, he works alone and without cover. He doesn't try to make things look like an 'accident'. Not unless there's a specific reason…" John trailed off, lost in thought.

_That's assuming it is the bastard who made it look like an accident. Unless…_

Giles was once again lost in the methods of John Constantine. How his former student, and one of his closest friends came to be like this was something he couldn't fathom. He'd heard the stories about Newcastle, how bad it was, how terrible and taxing it left John and the others. Giles wanted to justify his actions in the aftermath of the whole affair. He only wanted to help his friend. But seeing how it led him to this was something he deeply regretted.

_What had happened in Ravenscar anyway?_

"I beg your pardon?" Giles asked upon realizing that John had started talking to him once again.

"I said would you like a swig?" John's arm was outstretched, flask in hand.

"Oh… um… thank you, John. But I must decline. I'm still technically on the job." He responded. "But thank you for the offer."

Rolling his eyes at his response, John took another sip from the flask. "Suit yourself, chief. You always were a light-weight."

He got up and gathered the autopsy reports on the desk. He figured he could sort through the rest of the reports back at the motel. The atmosphere that was developing was one that he wasn't too keen on participating in.

"I'll be off now. I'll sort through the rest of these in detail later, make sure there's nothing missed." He said, gathering up the stack of papers. "If something new comes up, call me."

"Of course." Giles nodded, as he watched the mage leave the building. Left only with his thoughts, he went back into his office to prepare for his part in the investigation.

_Well, here I go again. Ripper once more._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I just realized that I was supposed to add two chapters to this the other day, but I forgot to add this one. My mistake. On the bright side, you get another chapter sooner than expected, kind of.  
> So this chapter is supposed to come before "Angels Watching Over Us", just for clarification.  
> Also, can anyone guess where I got Pharamond from?


	13. Angels Watching Over Us

**Chapter 12: Angels Watching Over Us**

It had been three weeks now. Three long weeks since he'd been brought out of the hell dimension of the demon Acathla. He sighed heavily, having woken up from his nap. Recovery took longer than he expected, even with Buffy's help. It had been two weeks since then. Two weeks since he'd been discovered by his old girlfriend. He wasn't quite sure where they were at this point. The return of his less-sociable, and less-than-pleasant, alter ego was something that he knew was still fresh in Buffy's mind. Along with the fact that it was Buffy herself who had sent him to Acathla's hell dimension in the first place only added to the tension between the two of them.

The sound of the mansion door opening brought him out of his deep contemplation. Making his way to the living room, he was greeted with the sight of her not-quite-ex-but-not-quite-official-girlfriend.

"Buffy." He said, feeling too tired and too awkward to greet her in any other way.

"Angel." She responded, standing quietly in the living room, under the light shining through the window.

"I, um… I brought some blood for you." She replied, placing a paper bag down on the center table. "I wanted to make sure you had enough."

"Thanks, Buffy." Angel replied, giving a small hint of a smile.

They both sat down on the sofa, letting the awkwardness of their prolonged silence wash over them like an endless tide. Her few interactions with Angel int the past few weeks had been purely for the sake of helping him recover: bringing him blood, spare clothes, making sure that he didn't go ballistic and started ripping up innocent people like a dog does to a chew toy. She never really tried to make anything more out of their meetings.

"So… how are you feeling?" she asked, trying to will the awkwardness away.

"I'm… I'm still a bit tired. But getting better." It wasn't exactly true. He was restless and it left him without much sleep. But he was getting better, so it wasn't exactly a lie either.

"Good. That's-That's good." She didn't know how else to respond. It was good. Or at least that's what she thought to herself.

_God, pull yourself together. Ughhh… I hope this is a good idea._

Angel could easily tell that something was wrong, but he couldn't make out exactly what.

"Are you alright?" he asked, easily sensing her nervousness.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She responded, even though she didn't believe it herself. "I-I just wanted to talk to you about something."

If the vampire wasn't nervous before, he was now. He wasn't sure about how he fit into Buffy's life anymore and he dreaded the possibility of being cast away from her life.

"Wha-What about?"

She took a deep breath as she started.

"I don't want to keep this a secret. I know that you have your soul back and I trust you, but keeping this from my friends, from Giles… I don't know if I can keep on doing that."

Angel listened to her words, worried about where they would lead, waiting for that sharp turn and rejection.

"There's this guy who's helping us out with something. He's supposed to be good with magic. I was thinking maybe he could help us out."

Out of all the things he could've expected Buffy to say to him, this certainly wasn't one of them.

"How do you mean 'help us out'?" he asked. _And who exactly is she referring to?_

"Okay, just- just hear me out, alright? His name's John Constantine. He's supposed to be an occultist and a good one at that. I've seen him in action and he totally knows his stuff." She got out, taking another breath. "I was thinking – well, hoping – that he could make sure that you have your soul. Not that I think that you don't! But maybe he could do something to confirm that you do. If-If you're alright with that?"

He took in her words and considered them carefully. Angel was always skeptical of trusting others, but he was always compliant in trusting Buffy. _But an occultist? The last thing I want is strangers getting mixed up in all this. But then, Buffy trusts him. Or at least seems to trust him._

Out of all his concerns, one question seemed to stick in his mind more than the others.

_Is it worth it?_

* * *

_Interlude: Dialogue in a Nameless Corner Store_

John Constantine pulled open the doors to a mundane shop, not anticipating too much trouble as he stepped toward the counter. Nor anticipating to hear as he entered, the brief flutter of wings.

"Get us a bottle of gin, a pack of Silk Cuts, and some matches, if you'd be so kind."

_"_ _You know those things will kill you, right?"_

"Well, well. I didn't think you'd care so much about my health, given how many times I've gone against the will of Heaven."

_"_ _You're reckless, your methods are insane bordering on suicidal, and you're even more of a loose cannon than our most unsavory of agents, but you're still useful to the Silver City."_

"Oh, isn't that a treat to hear? Now are you here for a reason or just to play all-seeing critic? Because frankly I'm getting tired of you lot pestering about my business again."

_"_ _Have you found out yet? The one responsible for these killings?"_

"I have. No thanks to you."

_"_ _John, you know my assistance is limited to influence. I cannot sway the outcome of events."_

"Playing that old song again? You know you're starting to sound like a broken bloody record."

_"_ _But I know that you suspect someone else's hand in all this. Someone beyond the Hunter."_

"Are you saying that I'm right?"

_"_ _I'm saying that you need to stay on the Hellmouth. The wheels of synchronicity are changing and the manifold paths of destiny are starting to make their destinations clear."_

"Bloody hell, I should've known that a straight answer from you was too good to be true."

_"_ _Have you thought about my offer? To once more render your services to Heaven?"_

"Just get me my matches and my bloody smokes you wanker."

_"_ _I can't do that John."_

"Right, now if this is about me not being of service to the "Divine Plan" than you can fu-"

_"_ _No, John, I literally can't. They don't sell your brand here."_

"Son of a- "

John Constantine pushed open the doors to the mundane shop, anticipating nothing but trouble as he stomped away from the counter. Also, anticipating to hear from behind him, the brief flutter of wings.

* * *

Buffy knew that the chances of Angel agreeing to something like this was a long shot. She knew that he trusted her, but to willingly collaborate with a total stranger was a very questionable thing to do. And to add to that, she was hedging her bets on a chain-smoking occultist who made Cordelia seem kind and personable.

_Why am I doing this? The plan was to move on and to forget about him and the whole mess from the last few months, but…_

_I don't know if I can._

She sat nervously watching her ex-boyfriend's face contort into full-on brood. She knew that something like this would be a long shot for him to agree on. But she also knew that she could only keep his return hidden for so long.

"I'm not entirely sure", he started, wary about the outcomes that could emerge from the fact. "I know that it's a hassle for you to watch over me like this and I'm grateful for that."

"No, it's not… doing this isn't any trouble on me, but I'm just worried what'll happen if the others find out." She managed to get out, trying not to let her disappointment show.

"Give me a few days to think about it. I know how important your friends are to you, I just need some time to think about this." He was hesitant to trust some wandering magician, but Buffy seemed to place a certain amount of trust in whoever this – _Constantine, was it?_ – seemed to be.

In any case, Buffy seemed to appear not exactly happier, but definitely less melancholy than when she entered. The atmosphere between them, while still somewhat awkward, had found a place of civility and for Buffy a sense of reassurance.

_Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!_

"Thank you." She said, her saying it aloud not at all matching how relieved she actually was. Despite him not giving a straight-forward 'yes', she was just glad that there was a chance that she didn't have to keep this whole affair a secret anymore.

Checking her watch, she noticed that it was almost time to go out on patrol. She had to meet up with Xander in Sunnydale Graveyard. For once she was glad to have someone else take charge of the situation. And if everything went according to plan, maybe she would be less worried about revealing Angel's situation to the grumpy exorcist.

"I have to go now." She said, getting up from the couch. "Take it easy for the next few days."

_And please, please consider it._

_Although, agreeing to it would certainly be nice too._

Angel watched as she slowly made her way out the doors of the mansion and off into town. He opened the bag, getting out one of the containers of pig's blood that he was used to feasting on now. He thought about everything that Buffy had told him, the stress of keeping his return a secret, the concern she had for his health, and her guilt of lying to her closest friends.

He felt an oh, so familiar guilt tug at his conscience. He felt guilty for causing all that pain and suffering to her and her friends. Those glimpses of memory flashing in his eyes.

 _Kendra Young…_ Dead because of his actions.

 _Jenny Calendar…_ Dead at his own hands.

 _Rupert Giles…_ Heartbroken and in mourning.

 _Buffy…_ Heartbroken almost beyond repair…

Why was he hesitant on trusting Buffy's idea? He certainly didn't deserve to be so, especially after all that he had done to her. The thoughts started to weigh heavy on his mind as he lifted the container to his lips and began to drink up the blood. What he needed to do right now was rest and push away all the guilt. She still trusted him despite all that he had done and right now he needed a clear head to make the right decision.

But one thing in particular seemed to be nagging at the back of his head. It was something familiar. Something like a memory. Something from more than two-hundred years ago.

Something…

Something…

Something from his days as Angelus.

_Constantine? I think I've heard that name before._

* * *


	14. A Growing Curiosity

**Chapter 13: A Growing Curiosity**

Willow was making her way to the library, slightly nervous at the prospect of what Mr. Constantine had asked her to do. The way Mr. Constantine put it she was to give some 'youthful perspective' to Giles. In any other circumstances, she'd be thrilled, but his instructions were at best, vague. When it came to magic, she always trusted Giles. In fairness, he was the only one out of all them who had any practical experience with magic. Unless she counted Ms. Calendar, which she couldn't because she was dead. She'd have to remember not to ramble on to Giles.

_At least, not the part about Ms. Calendar._

But her insecurities were founded. I mean sure she'd been able to restore Angel's soul, but this was different. She had a clear and concise goal, then. Now, it basically 'do magic-y stuff to investigate a murder and don't screw up'.

Facing the doors of the library, she took a deep breath to calm herself down. She tried to remember that she was working with Giles, Mr. Rupert Giles. He had a good knowledge of magic. And she trusted him.

_Plus Mr. Constantine said to provide him with a different perspective. I might not even have to do any magic at all._

She pulled open the door to the library, to find Giles on the phone. He hadn't noticed her walk in, and despite doing her best not eavesdrop, she heard the conversation anyway. Or at least part of it.

"Yes, this is Mr. Rupert Giles. I'm calling to inquire about a patient whom I checked into your facility a few years ago. A Mr. John Constantine."

Willow's eyes widened slightly. _Checked in? Patient?_

"Yes, I'd just like to inquire about the treatment he received. I'm calling on behalf of his family."

She was more curious than ever now. Willow knew that Giles's past was marred with all manner of secrets. Demon-worshipping cults, traitorous friends, and the sort. She wasn't surprised that there was more to his relationship with Mr. Constantine than was let on. _What had happened between them?_

Giles turned around and was caught in surprise at the sight of Willow. He instantly ended his call. "Willow, there you are."

She blushed slightly at having been caught eavesdropping. "Yup, here I am. Ready to go and investigate."

_Oh, very convincing Willow. Maybe you should go ahead and just write 'I was obviously eavesdropping' on my forehead in bright red paint. Although, I'm not sure there'd be enough room…_

Thankfully, for her sake as much as his, Giles seemed to continue right along. Whether or not he knew she was listening seemed unimportant, given that they had to find out more about whatever was hunting the good folk of Sunnydale.

"Yes, well…uh, w-we should be on our way. I've scheduled an appointment with the coroner." He stuttered out, as he put on his jacket and grabbed his briefcase.

"Alright. Sounds good." She more or less managed to squeak out in response.

She could tell that he was trying to hide something. The need to know more was there, but she felt as if it was something private. And she felt as if she would not only be interfering in Giles's past but in Mr. Constantine's as well.

They both walked out of the library, both trying to focus on the fact that there was a murderous new species of vampire, and both trying to avoid the awkwardness that was slowly starting to creep in.

* * *

Sunnydale was by no means just a small town. However, it wasn't that large of a town either. And despite this, the fact that it had its own coroner's office was surely something that newcomers and passersby found extremely odd, if they ever found out. But then the fact that the whole town was situated on a supernatural portal to Hell, was something that few knew. It would justify the need for the town to have its own coroner's office. It would also justify the need for twelve cemeteries.

"I'm here for an appointment with Dr. Webster." Giles said, to the front clerk.

"One moment." He said.

Giles and Willow had arrived to the medical examiner's office to see what information they could garner from the city's medical examiner. It was new for them. Their usual method was to break in at night and get whatever information they needed. But with the increase in the killings, they were unable to break in every night to get the information needed.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company or being near cadavers, but what exactly am I here for?"

"Well, you have been experimenting with magics yourself. And I need two people for the ritual that I'm going to perform."

"Ritual?" She squeaked out.

"Yes. It's Aramaic in origin. I managed to get form a grimoire that I bought in London."

She nodded, slightly, having calmed down upon receiving some sense of purpose revealed to her. Until she realized something was off. It wasn't as if Giles was above using magic, but she noticed the way he fidgeted at the word 'Aramaic'.

"It's not the type of magic that I'm used to, which is why your assistance is something that is quite necessary as much as I'm uncomfortable with the fact."

Willow tried to hide the disappointment that was starting to crawl onto her face. _I should've guessed that Giles didn't want me here._

Seeing her crestfallen expression, he immediately tried to clarify,

"No, Willow, it's not that I don't enjoy your presence nor that I think you're an unnecessary part of our group. It's just that…" He seemed hesitant to continue his point. Taking a breath, he carried on, "Practice of the dark arts is not something to be taken lightly. Magic always comes with a cost. I learned that the hard way with Eyghon. And John… well, I just don't want you to make the same mistakes that he and I made."

Willow nodded trying to grasp the full of what he told her. She was starting to delve deeper and deeper in the mystic arts. But she did it from a place of care. When Giles told her that there was no spell that could bind Angel's demonic half, she scoured Giles's manifold texts on the occult. Sure, she had to spend long nights in the school library, but she was determined. She even tried finding something on the internet, her lessons with Ms. Calendar coming through, trying to find a soul-binding spell. But thus far, nothing.

And now Giles was telling her to be wary of the world she was stepping into. _Fair enough, I suppose. But wait, Giles said "the same mistakes he and I made". I know that Giles really went naughty with the whole 'worshipping a demon' thing, but what did Mr. Constantine do? Did it have to do with checking him into that place he was calling? He said something about a facility too. Was it like, a mental hospital? Are we working with a former mental patient? Not that there's any problems working with a former mental patient, but when said-implied-mental-patient is a practicing occultist, then there are problems._

"Mr. Giles" the clerk said, "Dr. Webster will see you now."

Her thoughts suspended, she and Giles got up and walked toward the morgue.

* * *

The atmosphere between the librarian and the medical examiner was, at best, tense. Given how much convincing it had took the medical examiner to provide the autopsy reports, Giles knew that this was going to be a bit of a long shot. Thankfully, Dr. Webster had something of an open mind, so to speak. His father used to work as a medical operative for the Watcher's Council.

"Mr. Giles, I'm guessing you're here for our recently deceased."

"That would be correct, Dr. Webster. Emmeline Arcane, what information do you have on her?"

Instead of answering, the doctor merely laughed.

"So, twenty-seven autopsy reports weren't enough for you, eh? Gotta make it twenty-eight?"

"Call me an interested party." Giles responded coolly. "Dr. Webster, you know that what's occurring here is more than the average run of the mill vampire. And besides, you don't have to worry about sneaking off another report. We're not here for that."

Willow instantly turned to Giles in confusion. _We're not? Then why are we here?_

"Oh? Then what do you want then?" Dr. Webster inquired, his eyebrow raising in defiance.

"Five minutes alone with the body."

Silence from the doctor. Confusion from Willow. Defiance from Giles. It all made for an awkward situation. The doctor stared Giles down, as if he was trying to peer into his mind to see what the Watcher had in store. After what felt like hours, but was really half a minute, he spoke up.

"You're not going to steal it, are you?"

"No, nor are we going to do anything illegal. The body will stay right here."

After considering this, the doctor gave a nod of approval.

"Five minutes. That's all."

"Thank you, Dr. Webster."

He stepped out of the room, leaving Willow and Giles in the autopsy room, before pointing over to the body of the latest victim which had been laid out on the slab, wrapped in a body bag.

"Um… Giles? What exactly are we doing here if we're not here for the autopsy report? Or are we going to do the Aramaic ritual? If we are, what exactly is this ritual going to –"

"This ritual," he interrupted her nervous stuttering, "is a way to communicate with the dead."

"Communicate with the dead? We're going to be talking to the woman's spirit?"

"Not exactly." Giles said, as he opened up his briefcase and stuck out a shriveled, old, severed hand that seemed to just be in the beginning stages of decay, right in front of her face.

"Giles… what is that?"

"A Hand of Glory. You take the left hand of a man that's been hanged, pickle it in amniotic fluid for seven years, say the right incantation, and the dead will rise for as long as the candles burn."

He removed a large vial of what appeared to be blood and handed it to Willow, "Here. Empty this on the floor."

As she scattered the blood in a circle on the floor, around the body. As she poured the blood, Giles unzipped the body from the body bag, petite young woman with silver-dyed hair, pale and still, two small puncture wounds in her neck. He brought out a book and turned the pages, searching for the right spell. Once Willow had finished, he handed the book toward her and pointed to a spell.

"I want you to say this exactly, alright?"

"Alright." She said, both nervous and willing.

Lighting the candles on the hand's fingers, Giles started his incantation.

_Hear me, most Unnamable of Devourers_

_Shmaynee la geree la geray ohkleen_

_he_ _who guardeth the Eternal Gateway, who natair yat aboola dahba._

_Evray metah b'pee mehabbaqaq!_

Having held the hand out over the girl's dead body, he nodded to Willow, signaling her to start reading out the spell. Taking a deep breath, she started.

_Here us, most Unnamable of Devourers,_

_He who guardeth the Golden Gateway,_

_We seek an audience with one in your embrace._

Giles continued to whisper the Aramaic chant, as Willow looked up to see if the spell had worked. The room was filled with silence, save for Giles's continuous chanting. Nothing seemed to be happening, as the body remained still, eyes closed.

She quickly began to wonder what had gone wrong. _Did it work? Did I mess up or something? Because if this spell is supposed to bring the dead back to life, then-_

Willow gasped in shock and surprise, as the body on the floor instantly shot up to a sitting position, eyes opened with a grayish hue to the pupils. But not only did the one body of Emmeline shoot up to life, but all the other bodies as well. Hearing the screams and moans from the bodies inside their bags and the body cooler, Giles immediately refocused himself.

"Emmeline! Emmeline! Can you hear me? My name is Mr. Giles."

_"_ _Cold. So cold"_

"What did this to you?"

_"_ _The man. He was so beautiful."_

"Who? Who are you talking about?"

Two of the candles were starting to burn out.

_"_ _He had green eyes. He said… he was a visitor."_

"Can you give us more?"

_"_ _He drank my blood. I miss him… so."_

"How about a name? Can you give us a name?"

Almost all the candles had burned out, save for one.

_"_ _D… Da… Darius."_

The last candle gave a tiny flicker before it burnt out.

* * *

The cacophony of screams, moans, and thuds had subsided as the last candle burnt out and Emmeline Arcane's body once again lay down on the table.

Willow, still in shock over the potency of the spell, instantly began to wonder about this new foe that they were facing. They had his identification, someone called Darius. At least now they were making some real progress. Relief began to wash over her, as she looked toward Giles. He had something that she could only describe as a "thousand-yard stare".

_Was there something wrong? I mean, we at least have a name now._

Any skepticism that Giles had over the information that Constantine had revealed to him, was now eradicated. His confirmation had been given to him from the mouth of one of the victims. He knew that this would certainly be a daunting challenge, not just for Buffy, but for all of them.

He couldn't deny the facts any longer.

_So, John was right after all. We're dealing with the King himself._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of extra Willow and Giles for you. And some background on Giles's history with Constantine.


	15. Between Conflict and Chemistry

**Chapter 14: Between Conflict and Chemistry**

Faith sat reclined on her bed, impatiently leafing through a magazine as she waited for the so-called 'Master of the Dark Arts' that had stepped into Sunnydale. She was more stressed than she was willing to admit. _Some new type of vamp pops up in town and it's one that we've basically got squat on._

She was used to flying in blind on patrols, but she had an idea what to expect. She wasn't facing the unknown whenever she staked a couple vamps or fought off some kind of slimy demon from whatever hellhole. Her old watcher trained her well and despite having lost her, Faith had unwittingly learned a lot from her.

She sighed as she looked at the bedside clock, wanting to get rid of the memories of that evening. It was already five minutes past four.

_Man, where the hell is he? He said meet at four, and the asshole's already fucking late._

Getting up from the bed, she changed into her long jeans, more appropriate slaying-wear, and began to pace back and forth in her room. She was well aware about how uncharacteristic she felt, but then again, she felt like that whenever the thought of the blonde exorcist came to mind. Aside from his dickish personality, what was it about him that made him so uncomfortable to be around? Like Buffy said, it was a feeling that made you unsure if he was good or bad. But she couldn't deny one fact: she could feel the power that he had in him. It was odd, to say the least.

_And am I crazy to think it felt like it was all flickering? Like the dude's a busted light-bulb. It's like he's… he's…_

Only one word came to her mind.

_Constant._

The sound of the door knocking shook her out of her thoughts. Opening the door, she was faced with the same man plaguing her thoughts.

"Hello, luv. Sorry I'm late, but I needed to make a quick stopover at library."

Faith noticed that he still had the stack of manila folders from earlier in his hands, along with a few books. She noted how despite the nature of the situation, just how un-Watcher like he was. His eyes seemed dead-tired with barely-noticeable rings under them. His hair, which seemed to primarily go up and off into almost every direction, was a mess. Even his suit seemed rumpled, with his tie loosened and his shoes slightly scuffed. The trenchcoat seemed to just hang onto him in the same way a loose blanket hangs off the side of a bed.

"Allow me a few minutes to freshen up first. It's been a bloody long day."

Raising her eyebrows at that remark, she grinned slightly trying to hide how uncomfortable he made her feel.

"No problem, English. Just don't take too long reapplying your lipstick."

"Maybe you can lend me yours. I'd quite like to see how that color looks on my lips."

With a crooked smile, he stepped aside to his room, opened the door and sauntered in, leaving her outside his door with eyebrows raised. She had to admit, the dude could hold his own against her. Grabbing her leather jacket and some stakes, she went over to his room.

She noted how the room seemed almost unused. The bed was made, table clear of everything but the manila folders, and the blinds remained closed. At the foot of the bed lay an old-fashioned luggage case and a carpetbag, both of which looked like props from a 30's movie.

_Either he's a clean freak or he's hellbent on not staying here for too long._

From the bathroom door she could hear the sound of a faucet turning off, as he stepped out from the bathroom door. Shirtless.

_Well, I'll be damned. The asshat's got some muscle on him._

He started packing away stuff into the carpetbag, unaware of the slightly-carnal look she was giving him. As he turned his back to her, she instantly noticed the various tattoos on his back and upper arms. To her they looked like the typical magic-y mumbo jumbo, but she figured there was probably more to it than that.

"You ready then, luv?" He asked, as he put on a fresh shirt from the closet.

"Five by five, pal." She said, slightly annoyed. "But I don't know about you."

"Oh, don't you worry about me." He responded knotting up his tie. "All you need to worry about is that grand ol' slag that the universe calls the 'unexpected'."

Picking up his carpet bag and coat, he turned to her hand stretched toward the door.

"Now, then… shall we?"

* * *

Sunnydale General Hospital was no more busy than usual, despite the recent killings. If anything, what was pervasive was a sense of denial. The denial that there wasn't anything odd about the recent string of murders. The denial that the explanation was something normal, explainable, human. But the Scooby Gang knew better. They'd dealt with stuff like this all the time. And, more than anyone, John Constantine knew best.

_But I'm still as much in the dark as anyone here._

The two of them approached the front desk, as John reached into his pocket to remove his deck of cards. Ignoring the puzzled look on the brunette slayer's face, he took out the seven of diamonds and showed it to the nurse.

"My name's John Constantine. I'm here to see the new hospital administrator." He said, once more adopting an American accent.

"Do you have an appointment?" The nurse asked, eyebrow raised at the unlikely duo.

"No ma'am. I'm with the Health Department." He raised the card to show the nurse. "Now, I am sure that she can make an exception, now?"

The nurse's face remained hesitant. He could tell that she was internally debating whether or not to let them in. Her face took on a look of resignation as she grabbed the telephone and called the administrator's office.

"Please, take a seat in the waiting room." She said, having informed the new administrator. "She'll see you in a moment."

"Thank you, ma'am" He said, as he and Faith walked over to the waiting room. He could tell that she had a thousand questions burning on her mind, but she'd never ask him. Or at least not directly. He knew the type, too proud to admit befuddlement. He was in the same vain too.

"Let me guess, magic?"

"Well, aren't you the clever one." He said, glad that he didn't have to prattle on with an explanation.

"Not bad, I'll give you that." She said sitting down next to him. "I'm guessing you got more than just card tricks up your sleeves, am I right?"

"Hm. Ten out of ten there, luv." He said. _Manny was right. She's a helluva firecracker._

"So, why're we talking to the new head honcho? I thought we were here to look at the other guy's body?"

"We are. But there's more to this case than another vampire in the night. I'm not sure exactly what, but I can feel it."

"You always trust your gut like that?"

"It's the only reason I'm still alive, luv." _And why everyone else is either dead or a living mess._

John caught the sight of a woman walking toward them. He and Faith both stood up to greet the administrator.

"Hello, Mr. Constantine? I'm Dr. Vestra Cameron." She shook hands with John, before turning to Faith. "And you are?"

"Ms. Lehane." John replied hastily, not noticing Faith's eyes widening. "She's my personal assistant."

Giving her a smile she shook hands with Faith, who had somewhat recovered from the surprise. "Right this way, please." She walked to her office, with them following behind.

As they walked, Faith grabbed John's arm in an almost vice-like grip. "Okay, pal. How the hell did you know that?"

"Know what?" He asked, thoroughly confused at her sudden turn of mood.

"You know exactly what." She was damn close to breaking the guy in two. _If he doesn't tell me how he knew, I'm gonna kick his ass all the way back across the pond._

The sound of a cough shook them out of their soon-to-be-argument. They turned to see the face of Dr. Cameron, staring at the two with a look of question in her eyes. John smiled, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary. Faith, still burning with suspicion, managed to control her face and at least give the illusion of calm. The two of them stepped into the office, a very hard-scrabble looking pair to say the least, and sat down in front of her desk.

"So, Mr. Constantine, may I ask what brings you here?" She inquired.

"I'm here to inquire about the circumstances surrounding the unfortunate passing of your predecessor." He said, not bothering with an American accent.

"Ah, yes Dr. Espinoza." She said, taking in his words. "I was saddened to hear about his death."

"Yes, well, don't worry. I just need to ask you a few questions and my partner and I will be on our way."

"Of course, Mr. Constantine."

"Now, did you know Dr. Espinoza?"

"Personally? No. But he had a good reputation amongst the staff. He was a good, hardworking man."

"Did he ever show any signs of depression?"

"Not that I'm aware of. He always seemed so happy to do his work. Which is why it shocked everyone when he committed suicide."

"Hm. Interesting."

Faith had sat through the whole interrogation, silent and seething, still trying to comprehend the swirling vortex of confusion that was John Constantine. She'd paid a bit of attention to the whole chat, mostly observing the methods that the self-pronounced exorcist employed. But she was stuck on one detail.

_Why the hell does he even need me here? I'm here to slay, not play bodyguard to Houdini._

"Thank you, very much for your time." He said getting up from his chair. "And may I ask, if you don't mind, how you managed to get land the job of his replacement?"

"Well, I was appointed by the Board of Directors."

"Oh? Well that's very fortunate of you. They've certainly seemed to make a stellar decision." There was some well-hidden skepticism in his voice as he said it, but it all seemed to masked by his charm. "My superiors back at the Department will be grateful for the information you've been able to give."

Faith stood up along with him as he said his thanks to Dr. Cameron. Just as they stepped out of the office, Faith once again had John's arm gripped between her fingers as they walked down the hall. John at once felt both confused as to her actions and slightly numb, marveling at just how much of his blood circulation was being cut off just by her one grip.

_Christ, this is a lot stronger than I expected._

"Okay, then asshat, you got what you wanted from here, now it's my turn. How the hell did you know my last name?" She demanded, as her grip on him was starting to turn into her dragging him.

"Strewth! What are you bleeding on about?" He said, trying to loosen himself from her.

"My last name, 'Ms. Lehane'. How did you find that out?"

"You mean to tell me that that's actually your surname?" He asked, surprised at this revelation. "Well, isn't that kismet?"

"Are you saying that you just guessing my last name correctly was just 'pure coincidence'?" Her incredulity was justified. It wasn't as if he gave off the impression that he was a 'trustworthy' individual. And given that Faith wasn't the type of person to trust others easily, she had more than every right to play skeptic.

"What can I say? I suppose I'm just a lucky bastard." He winked in response.

She stared hard into his eyes, searching for any trace of falsehood coming from him. He returned her gaze with one of his own. One that held no secrets, no lies, yet seemed to will her to believe him. To trust him.

Faith felt that uncertainty about him once again, that feeling of some strange power emanating from the way he seemed utterly confident in holding the world.

"Fine.", she said letting go of his arm, suspicion still evident in her voice. She grinned slightly as he rubbed his reclaimed limb in an effort to get the blood flowing again.

_Okay, I'll believe him. For now._

"Thanks for finally seeing reason." He said, as he started walking back through the halls. "But we're not done here yet. We've one more stop."

"And what's that?" She asked, as she saw him bump clumsily into a janitor.

"The vampire bite-marks. I need to verify if they were there before or after the bullet made a home of his skull." He replied, having said his apologies to the now pissed off janitor.

"But wouldn't something like that be in the autopsy report?" She asked trying to catch up to the Brit's steadily increasing pace. She caught up to him as they both turned down the hallway in the direction of the morgue.

"Wasn't made clear. I can tell that Giles thinks that there's something bigger at play." He held up a hand showing a set of keys. Keys he'd clearly pick-pocketed from that janitor. "And that's what we're going to find out."

Faith couldn't help but to grin.

_I gotta give it to the bastard. He knows what he's doing._

* * *

_Bloody hell, I haven't a clue what I'm doing._

He stalked down the hall to the hospital morgue. Under the guise of a police investigation, he had the orderly set out the body onto the table. He set his carpetbag down on a table, rummaging through trying to find one of the mystical artifacts he often used during these type of investigations.

_But I suppose it's all improv, eh? Improv and illusion. Christ, I'm starting to sound like a posh maudlin prick._

"So, I've been meaning to ask", Faith spoke up as she watched him search through his carpetbag, "What's in the man-purse?"

"Oh, just bits and bobs." He said, pulling out something that looked like a massive nail before putting it back in. "Holy water, police scanner, cemetery dirt, duct tape."

To the look of incredulity on her face he continued, "In my line of work, one needs to strike the right balance between improvisation and preparedness. My equipment, helps to make that balance, so to speak."

She reached in and pulled out a vial of something that looked like olive oil, her curiosity at the Brit's eccentricity growing steadily.

"What's this?" She asked, as she tossed the vial up and caught it again.

"Ah, ah. Don't touch." He said, snatching the vial from her hand. "And don't bloody throw it about like a friggin' rag doll."

She snorted at how easily wound up he became. He glared at how much of an annoyance she was starting to become.

"This is oil from the Holy Sepulchre, in Jerusalem. Ideal for interrogation against vampires."

Faith instantly grew interested at that fact. "Interrogation? You'll have to teach me sometime, Johnny." She put just enough implication in her tone, just to see how he'd react.

"If I can find what I'm looking for, first…" He responded, absent-minded. "Ah, here it is."

She watched eyebrow raised as he ignored her obvious flirtation and brought out what appeared to be a brush and an old looking container. "You're going to reapply his mascara?"

"This belonged to the occultist Aleister Crowley." He said ignoring her sarcasm. "Useful for detecting all sorts of mystical energy."

Opening the container and dipping the brush in, he moved toward the body and brushed along the bullet hole in his temple and the spot on his neck where two puncture wounds were slightly visible. As he brushed along, the wounds started to emanate a faint glow. The bullet hole turning blue and the puncture wounds giving of a black hue.

"Just as I thought." He said as he packed up the bag. "We've got what we needed here. Let's go now."

"What, that's it? Just a bit of coloring and we're done?"

"Of course. What did you expect? Candles? Pentagrams? A fuckin' ray of light from on high pointing to the massive hole in the poor sod's head?"

"I don't know. I just expected more from a 'Master of the Dark Arts'." She responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Laughing to himself, he shook his head as he walked out the doors.

"That's not how magic works, luv."

"Then how does it work?"

"It works the way you want it. It's an illusion." He replied simply.

Faith shaking her head in confusion, followed him as he picked up his pace toward the hospital exit. She knew she was in it now. The mystery – _more, like migraine_ – that was John Constantine.

_Does this guy make it a habit to be confusing? Wouldn't be surprised. I mean, he's made being a jackwagon one of his character traits._

"Hold on, pal. What the hell do you mean by that?"

"The fact of the matter is that magic is always a game of illusion." He said, surprising her by continuing his point. "To get your audience to look at what you want them to look. It's not about control, it's about sustaining the illusion."

He lit up a cigarette as she took in all that he was saying. She didn't know why she was even bothering to listen, but it felt like she had to. Like his next words would be vital, somehow.

"Most of the time, people see what they want to see already. All that a good magician does is direct that gaze toward where he or she would like. You master that, you've already won the game."

"So is that what you do, then? Use your skills to point the demons toward where you want them to see?"

"Now, what the hell are _you_ on about?"

"What you do. You gave me your card. 'Exorcist, Demonologist, Master of the Dark Arts'. Is that how you do it? By just being a grand illusionist, banking on luck and your skills as a dickhead?"

"Most of the time", he said grinning at his rather apt description of him. "Unless it's a straight-up exorcism, then I usually rely on my brains. I trust them, more than my magic."

"So, what you're saying you're like a… 'Sherlock Holmes of the Occult'?"

He barked out a laugh as he turned to her and looked her dead in the eyes. She froze peering into them once again. It was as if she could see everything about him, and at the same time, nothing.

"Not exactly", he said stepping closer to her. "I'm more along the lines of 'the Saint of Last Resorts'."

He turned around and continued on back down the street, as Faith followed him reflecting on what he had said.

_The Saint of Last Resorts? I'm guessing that's not good news for us, then._

* * *

The walk from the hospital to the motel would normally be of no consequence to John, but given that this was in Southern California during the early autumn, the heat was making it quite hellish for him. Even though the sun had finally set, John could still feel the near arid heat of the desert surrounding Sunnydale.

_This is why I loathe Southern bloody California._

Faith felt uncomfortable amidst the unspoken atmosphere between the two. John, appeared ambivalent, more or less. He was too busy thinking. Thinking about how he would deal with the situation. This wasn't the usual demonic possession or the average vampire. This was far more dangerous than that.

They had just reached the front entrance to the motel lobby when Faith stopped in her tracks.

"Okay, that's it. I can't take this anymore. Spill."

John turned to her confused. "Spill what?"

"Whatever the hell's got your twisted British knickers all knotted up." She said crossing her arms. "C'mon, you haven't said a word since we stepped out of the hospital. And we're supposed to be working together. Considering that you've basically dragged me all the way to a hospital and back for no reason, I think I've got the right to know whatever the hell's been keeping that constipated look on your face."

John sighed, his mind going back and forth between exasperation and amusement. He had to admit that he liked her. A bit headstrong and quite hard to be patient with, but she at least had a habit of asking the right questions.

"The brush detected mystical energy on that vampire bite."

"Yeah, so?" Faith asked, confused as to his concern.

"So, vampire bites aren't mystical in any way. It would be like if a drunk Glaswegian took a bite out of you. Unnatural? Sure. But mystical? No."

He paused taking off his trench coat, finally succumbing to the heat.

"The black glow that came from that bite means that whatever vampire did this, isn't from our universe."

"Not from our universe?"

"Exactly. There's whispers of a race of vampires that have come to this world from another. And what little information there is on them, exists only as rumor." He said, worry evident in his voice. Faith remained silent as she began to grapple the situation, sensing the distress of the Englishman before her.

"So, that's why it's best that no one in your little gang goes off alone. We don't know exactly what we're dealing with or how to kill it." He paused, his eyes widening for a bit, before he continued. "And besides, I didn't drag you all the way there and back just for nothing."

Faith blinked back at him in confusion, before something like an alarm went off in the back of her head. Her Slayer sense was on high alert as she turned around and saw what had the guy on edge. A group of no less than fourteen vamps had come from the shadows, surrounding the two.

John instinctively stepped closer to the brunette slayer, working his head through the whole scene, trying to come up with something to get them out of this mess.

Faith, however, couldn't help but smile as she got out one of her stakes. Having been on edge having to deal with the likes of Constantine for the whole day, this would be nothing but therapeutic for her.

_Maybe, I can even beat B's record for most vamps slayed in a night._

Looking to the worried expression on Constantine's face, she couldn't help but grin. At least, now she understood why he brought her along.

_A magic man like that, not used to getting down and dirty in combat. Typical._

"Well, Johnny, better get your game-face on." She said tossing him a stake. "Welcome to Sunnyhell."

_Oh, this is going to be fun._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I do love writing these two interacting with each other. I hope that I've nailed Faith's characterization right, because I find writing her (well, her dialogue specifically) to be quite difficult.


	16. The Fury and the Fire

**Chapter 15: The Fury and the Fire**

**Previously:**

"Well, Johnny, better get your game-face on." She said tossing him a stake. "Welcome to Sunnyhell."

_Oh, this going to be fun._

* * *

If there's one thing that John Constantine could pride himself on, it's the fact that he knew himself well. Despite all his previous mistakes, failures, betrayals, and cons, he at least knew his limitations, capabilities, and character. He recognized when he could control a situation and he recognized a situation that was beyond his control. And he was well aware when he was out of his depth. For instance, having to fight vampires was a scenario in which he was very much out of his depth.

_This is why I don't do big, detailed plans. They always have a way of going to shit._

Fourteen vamps had surrounded him and Faith, and this was definitely a scenario where he was out of his depth. But thankfully he had planned ahead.

Having tossed him a stake, he noticed that Faith had gotten into a fighting stance. Her stake was out and she had a look of determination on her face.

_At least I'm with a vampire slayer._

"I'm guessing you lot aren't here for a chinwag, eh?" he said, falling back on snark.

Three of the vamps instantly rushed toward Faith, trying to subdue her. Before they could even reach her, she had knocked two of them down, punching one in the face and flipping another over her, before staking them. Two others made a move to grab John. Punching one in the face he quickly staked him before he managed to get up again. Unfortunately, the other vamp had managed to land a hard punch to his abdomen and knocked him down onto the ground.

After getting over the shock of being knocked over, he realized that the vampire was trying to carry him over his shoulder.

_Ah, so the wankers need us alive then, eh?_

He instantly landed a hard blow into the vamp's gut, stunning it long enough for him to grab his stake off the ground and stab him through the heart with it. Turning to Faith, he saw that she had already managed to dust at least seven and was working her way through two of them. The other three had his sights set on him. Reaching for his carpetbag, he pulled out a pendant in the shape of a Chi-Ro and held it up in front of the approaching vampires.

The three vamps instantly stopped, frozen in their very steps. With a satisfied grin, he quickly ran up to the vampires and staked each one. Just as the dust settled, he heard someone else crying out. He turned just in time to see one of the vampires turn to dust on Faith's stake.

"Wait!" he called out to her just as she was about to plunge her weapon into the last vamp's heart.

"What?" She replied angrily, pissed off that her streak was being interrupted. "Can't you see I'm doing my job here?"

"Yes, well, before you go all Van Helsing on him, we need him alive." He responded, breathing heavily still from the fight.

"Why? It's pretty clear these assholes wanted us dead." She growled out as the vampire began cowling in fear of the adrenaline induced Slayer.

"No, they were trying to capture us. They wanted us alive." He clarified to her, trying to ignore the shooting pain where he had been punched in. "The vampire we're looking for sent them. This may be our only chance to find out more about this bastard beyond ancient gossip."

Faith looked back at him, her expression a notable mixture of hesitance and annoyance marring her face. He was used to being given that type of expression a lot, given the 'charming' nature of his personality. Seeing that she still held the beaten-up vampire in her hands, he quickly made his move.

"C'mon, you said you wanted to learn how to interrogate a vampire, right?" He took out the vial of holy oil from his carpetbag. "Now's your chance, luv."

She had to admit that he was right. This may be the only chance they had in putting an end to the string of killings. Hauling the vamp up off the floor and knocking him unconscious, she turned to the mage who had given her a cautious, yet grateful, smile in return.

"Good", he said as he gathered up his things. "Bring him inside."

He looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the brawl. He could see nothing save for an odd patch of fog that seemed to be gathering around the gas station from across the street.

_Bollocks._

"We don't want to stick around for any more surprises."

* * *

Darius was never much of a practical individual, he had to admit. He liked the theatrics of being a vampire, the lust and drama of it all. But there were times when instinct took over. When hunger and bloodlust became too strong for his senses. Knowing this, he decided to make a quick stop at the gas station during the midst of his reconnaissance. The attendant and the two customers made for a sufficient meal, their bodies laid dead on the ground, throats slashed and void of any blood. He did hate to leave a mess, but he knew that desire was at its strongest when it was instinctual. Primeval yearnings always haunted him, even before he met the King.

He had watched the scene unfold from afar, watching in wonder and fascination as each of his slave-soldiers were slain by the blonde man and the brunette woman. Under normal circumstances he would be at the very least annoyed. What was the point of keeping the half-breeds if they were useless in combat? He supposed they'd make useful cannon fodder if it weren't for the fact that he and his kind were virtually un-killable. But his curiosity was captured when he noticed the brunette as the same woman he'd seen before at the Bronze and at the college house party, Faith.

_The skill and coordination on her is remarkable. Her strength, her speed, her stamina. It's almost as if she was a…_

He stopped dead in his tracks as he watched the duo haul the last survivor into the motel.

_A Chosen One._

* * *

Hauling the vamp up, she dragged him along with one hand and into the motel, toward John's room. She'd managed to get the vampire into a sitting position on one of the chairs, while John handcuffed the vampire into place.

"Okay", she breathed out, her adrenaline starting to subside. "Now what?"

"Get me bag will you? We'll use the oil from the Sepulchre." He responded bringing up a handkerchief to his bloody nose.

"You alright?" She asked, seeing just how badly beaten up he was.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He replied, sitting back down with a groan. "I've been through worse."

Shrugging in acceptance at the Brit's response, despite not believing him at all – _I mean seriously, I've seen kids from the Southside who've gotten the crap beaten out of them look in better condition than Mr. Magic here_ – she went over to pick his man-purse up as she rummaged through the various 'bits and bobs', or so he put it, before finding the vial. Tossing it to him, he caught it and pulled out its stopper. The first thing that John did was deliver a harsh slap to the vampire, immediately bringing him out of his unconsciousness.

"Agh!"

"Oh, you're awake." John delivered in a sarcastic voice. "I'm terribly sorry. I hadn't noticed."

The blank look from the vampire pretty much said it all for him.

"Alright mate, all dickery aside, I know that what you want from us goes beyond our hemoglobin. I know that you're working for the King. And I know that right know what you're feeling is something akin to fear. Not of us, but of your new monarch." He lit up a cigarette, taking in the fresh English tobacco and the fear in the creature's face.

"So, I'll be civil here." He said leaning down to eye-level with the vampire. "If you tell us what he wants from us, then all's well from us. However, if you choose to be uncooperative, then I'll have to let my friend over there take over this conversation."

He nodded over to Faith, who still had her stake out and gave the vampire a look that John could only describe as "sexually hostile".

"And trust me, mate," He continued, bringing down his voice just a bit lower, "a pissed off vampire slayer is the last thing you'd want to deal with."

Despite the shock and evident fear expressed by the undead blood sucker, he appeared to remain adamant in his resistance. To this, John could only roll his eyes as he gave shrug and a smile to the eager-looking Slayer. Faith couldn't help but smile back at the mischievous grin he had plastered on his face.

_God, the dude's completely insane. I kinda like it…_

Making her way over to him, he pressed the vial to her hands. "Start with the eyes, luv. One drop each."

Hearing this, the vampire began to struggle, trying to free himself from the torture he knew was to come. Preening over him, Faith moved to straddle the incapacitated vamp, pulling his head back and placing one drop onto his yellow eyes.

The screams that followed were rough and coarse, filled with a sort of gasping pain that was reserved for those rare moments when pain was made purely for the sake of someone else's entertainment. A sort of smoky haze rose up from his eyes, his screams echoing off against the walls of the motel.

"You can cry out all you like, mate." John said as he took another puff of his cigarette. "The whole room is warded. In this space, no one can hear you scream."

John placed a hand on Faith's arm, halting her motions as he moved over to lean toward the handcuffed vamp again. Gazing deep into the one eye that wasn't in the process of turning into a smoldering mess of liquid, he spoke up to him.

"Are you sure you still want to keep your gob shut?" He said as he lit up another cigarette.

"You goddamn bastard! I'm not saying a fucking word to you!"

"I thought so." He sighed as he stood back up. _Daft sod._

Giving a nod of the head to Faith, she moved closer again to the vampire as she readied to pour another drop onto his last good eye. He looked into the Slayer's eyes as she gave him a crooked smile. It was a smile that could melt hearts, minds, and in about half a second his right eye.

Shaking against the plastic chair, he turned to the blonde man who was sitting languidly on the bed, smoking his cigarette. He would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't afraid of her.

_But the Sovereign…_

He didn't have time to finish his thoughts as another drop of holy oil landed directly on his retinas.

* * *

Darius was in a hell of a state. When he first encountered the girl, Faith, never in his wildest dreams envision that someone like her could be a Slayer. There was an intense recklessness to her that was never seen in any of the others. And that was just ignoring the fact that she was apparently called whilst another Slayer remained active. There was no precedence for this.

_No… no. She can't be. He's already given us the identity of the Chosen One. We know who she is. The possibility that there's two…_

It was an observation that was too fantastical to explore. He knew such a thing ought to be impossible. But he knew very well that the universe was far stranger and madder than was given credit for. His doubts resurfaced as he manifested himself back from mist, back into his full form. His mind reeled at this new development.

Curiosity…

Intrigue…

_Lust._

They all raged and twirled within his mind. He was glad that Dr. Cameron had informed him about the two interlopers. But he knew that such hasty decisions could only end in failure. If he could get confirmation that she was a slayer then, and only then, would he dare to make her his gift to the King.

_A gift for ruling our kingdom well, for the new life he has given me…_

He gave one final smile, to his imaginary audience as his body dissolved once again into a haze of mist.

_And thankfully, I have the means to do just that._

* * *

For the first time since arriving at Sunnydale, Faith felt a sense of excitement. Not that quick spurt of adrenaline that came with beating the holy hell out of the undead denizens of Sunnydale. And not the fake type of excitement that she was supposed to feel whenever Giles or B went on about 'protecting the innocent' and 'doing good' or whatever. This was something else entirely.

It was a raw pleasure that she never felt before. Excitement, mixed with aggression. She was well aware of what she was doing. But at the same time, she wasn't. Straddling the vampire, she poured oil slowly, drop by drop, onto various areas of his body. Each drop would produce a hissing noise, like acid corroding metal. And along with, steam would rise from each torture spot. But instead of dust, there would just be some weird bloody mixture of oil and melted detritus that would seep out of the burns.

This wasn't just torture for the greater good. But at the same time, it wasn't just a masochistic desire to beat the shit out of the bastards that killed her watcher. It was both. A sort of nobility mixed with raw carnal pleasure that seemed to touch every fiber of her.

It wasn't until after the seventh drop of oil did the vampire's resistance to the slayer's torturous parade broke and in a scream, he made his submission known.

"ANNEXATION!"

Faith halted her actions as John stood up straight, his eyes alert at the revelation. Still breathing raggedly from the torture done to his other eye, he continued on.

"He wants… to annex the town into his… kingdom." He barely managed to get out. "The Sovereign… desires control… of the Hellmouth."

"I figured that." He said walking over to him. "But what does that bastard want control of the Hellmouth for?"

"I don't know! He never says anything to us." He managed to control his erratic breathing just long enough to continue. "We're just… slaves to him."

Before John could get anything more out of him, Faith grabbed him by his tie and pulled him aside. She'd watched the whole exchange with a mixture of confusion and weariness, with any excitement that she once had evaporating a soon as the situation turned away from beating the crap out of vampires.

"Okay, what the hell are you talking about?" She grounded out. "You said that you'd explain, but you've said jackshit so far."

"I know. And I'll tell you what I know." He responded, steadily growing impatient at the interruption. "Right after this wanker tells us what he bloody knows."

"Oh, no you don't asshole."

"Listen, what we're dealing with, this 'Sovereign', is much more dangerous than you could possible fathom."

"I'm a vampire slayer, Johnny-boy. Tell me something I don't know."

"Oh, for Christ's sake. I promise that I'll tell you just what the bloody hell is going on. Just as soon as this prick tells us everything _he_ knows, alright?"

Faith moved to protest, but before she could she was interrupted by a scream from the vampire. They both turned to see what was causing his screams of pain. It was unlike anything either of them had seen before. Writhing on the chair, it was as if something was affecting him from the inside. His whole body shot up in a way as if his spine was jackknifed, and his screams only grew louder. John quickly rushed over and placed his shoulders on the vamp's shoulders in an effort to place some control over him.

"What the hell is happening?" Faith screamed out, as she witnessed the chaos unfold.

"I haven't a bloody clue!" John shouted back, desperately trying to control the situation.

_It can't be another wraith, not with the wards placed on the room._

In a final torrent of agony, the vampire let out one final cry before his eyes rolled back into his head and he turned to dust.

John fell forward onto the floor, caught by the unexpectedness of this turn of events. He hauled himself up just in time to see a hazy grey mist in place where the tortured vampire once was. Backing away, he caught Faith's arm, dragging her back with him against the wall of the motel. He knew exactly what this was.

_Oh, bollocks._

Faith looked at the haze of mist in confusion as it began to coalesce into a more recognizable figure. Physical features seemed to manifest itself from the mist. Features that she instantly recognized quite clearly. As the mist turned to man, or what appeared to be a man, Faith could only stare eyes-wide at the face of the man she had ran into at the Bronze the other day.

"You?" She managed to get out.

"Oh, yes my dear." He said, with a voice that somehow managed to be simultaneously mild-mannered and dangerous. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure to properly introduce myself. My name is Darius."

"Darius, eh?" John spoke up, in an instant. "The right-hand man to the infamous Hunter of the Night."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, sir." He said in an almost mocking tone. "I'm already well acquainted with Ms. Faith, here. But I don't seem to recognize you."

Ignoring the mixture of shock and anger coming from the Slayer next to him, he held her back with his free arm as he stepped forward, putting on a small smile on his face, disguising his thoughts and emotions. If he was anxious, then neither Faith nor Darius would have been able to see it. Another one of his old methods.

"Oh, my name's not important mate." He said, confidence wrapping itself around his voice. "But you, mate, you're a real piece of work, aren't you?"

"Now what makes you say that?"

"Twenty-eight deaths within two weeks. Heh, talk about painting the town red."

"Oh, I see. You're one of those 'clever' bastards aren't you? I can tell... Mr. Constantine."

"You've got me there, mate." He got out another cigarette and lit it, appearing completely unfazed by the fact that he knew his name. "Now, why in the world is a vampire of your kind out and about killing half-breeds? Surely your precious bloody 'Soveregin' has more important things on the agenda for you."

"Oh, indeed." He gave a small laugh as he stepped forward toward John. "But you could say that, I have a pet project of my own."

John noticed as Darius's eyes shifted away from him and toward Faith, who had been silent until now.

"What the hell do you want from me?" She grounded out, too scared to admit that for once she didn't know what to do.

"Nothing, my dear." He said, his smile widening with every word. "I don't want a thing from you. What I want _is_ you."

At this moment, her fear turned into instinct as she got out her stake and quickly plunged deep into Darius's chest. A million emotions flashed across his face as he staggered back, hands shaking, daring not to touch the piece of wood that had been pierced into his heart. He looked up into Faith's eyes and did something that neither Faith or John expected.

He laughed. And he laughed hard.

It started with his ragged gasps, the erratic breaths that could have been a herald of death now turning into a low deep rumbling laugh. His shock and pain quickly transformed into one of amusement. The two looked on, disturbed as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Looking back up at the two of them, in a very nonchalant way for someone with a piece of wood sticking out of his chest, he grabbed the stake and in one swift movement removed it from his heart. Twirling the stake in his hands, he had an almost grateful look on his face.

"I apologize for the theatrics, but I couldn't resist." He said as he gazed at the blood on the stake. "My compatriots have always said that I have a flair for the dramatic. What can I say? I've always loved the theatre."

John now aware that Darius was here for Faith, stepped forward in front of her. They both watched as Darius proceeded to give the stake a long lick, him appearing to relish the taste of _his own blood_. Faith tried to stay calm, trying to shake away the flashbacks she was starting to have about Kakistos.

"Thank you for giving me what I wanted, my dear." Darius said as he dropped the stake, licked clean of the blood.

"What you wanted?" John asked, worried where this line of questioning would lead.

"Oh, yes. The King will be absolutely delighted when I tell him that there's not just one Slayer on the Hellmouth. There's _two._ "

John turned to Faith with a hard look on his face, who in turn seemed just as shocked as he was. Her eyes wide, she failed at hiding her panic as her mind seemed to be wrestling with her fight-or-flight response. Stepping closer to her, just as much for his own comfort as hers, he realized the true gravity of the situation.

_Fuck! That's what the bastard wanted. Fucking FUCK!_

_Okay, Constantine. Take a breath... how the hell are you gonna get out of this one?_

He looked down to where Darius was standing, and instantly had an idea.

"So, what, is that all package and parcel with you lot, eh?" He said as he brought out another cigarette. "Can't be killed the traditional way, not feeling a bloody thing?"

"From where you stand, you don't have the authority to ask questions." Darius said, stepping forward slightly in front of the spot where the two had tortured the captured slave-soldiers. "But… no, the usual methods won't work. I'm not one of those fucking half-breeds. But pain is something else, unfortunately. It always seems inescapable."

"Really? Well isn't that just a peach." John replied, as he lit his cigarette. "But you're quite wrong about one thing."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"It's not about where I stand." He held up the lighter he used to light his cigarette and flicked it on. "It's about where _you_ stand."

He tossed the lighter onto the floor, in front of Darius's feet. The spilled oil from John and Faith's joint 'interrogation' instantly caught on fire, with the flames spewing upward, igniting anything that the oil touched.

Darius screamed as he felt the heat of the sudden inferno, shoot up and throughout his body. Amidst the flames that coated his flesh, he quickly turned back into the grey mist from before and dispersed through the vents and window, the fire disappearing with him.

The silence that followed could almost be described as deafening, oddly enough. Turning to Faith, who was still wide-eyed with shock, he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Faith, are you alright?"

Blinking herself out of her near catatonic state, she managed to somehow respond, dry lipped.

"Yeah… five by five."

To this, John couldn't help but be skeptical. _I highly doubt that you are, luv._

"You know you keep saying that, 'five by five', as if I'm supposed to know what it means." He said, giving a light smile, or his best attempt at one.

"It means I'm alright, English." She said with a little bit of levity, feeling a little bit more herself now that this Darius guy was gone. "That was… uh… clever. What you did with the lighter."

"Much appreciated, luv." He said, as he picked up her discarded stake and handed it her.

"So… earlier." She hugged her arms, that weird feeling John seemed to elicit from her slowly regaining prominence. "When you said that you were the 'Saint of Last Resorts' or whatever. Does that mean you usually handle crap like this?"

Turning to look at the mess of oil, dust, and burn marks that had been left in his motel room, he sighed in exasperation. If he didn't have a headache before, he certainly did now. Picking up his handkerchief, body still aching from the beating he received not too long ago, he finally turned to answer her question.

"It means that I'm a nasty piece of work, luv." He said, taking a final drag of his cigarette. "Ask anybody."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally major plot points are being pushed forward. I know that I've been really slow at that, but in my defense, I've never really written any form of prose fiction, so I apologize if you feel like it's taken a while to get here.
> 
> Also, I'm trying to balance out the tone of the original Hellblazer comics with the tone of the show, so that's another reason why I'm taking a while to touch upon the overall plot. I think I've achieved a balance that works, but that's just my opinion. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


	17. Starless and Bible Black

**Chapter 16: Starless and Bible Black**

If Xander Harris could categorize what he felt as of right now, here, alone, in a graveyard by himself, it would be apprehensive. He really wasn't sure what to expect when the self-proclaimed 'master of the dark arts' arrived on the Hellmouth. But since the Brit had sauntered into the lives of the Scooby Gang, an uneasy tenseness had also seemed to wander in as well. The way everyone seemed to more or less follow the guy's command, like he was the general and the rest of them reduced to mere soldiers.

_Okay, in my case, that's probably valid. Is it bad that I know how to gain access to a military weapons depot? Probably not._

Still, everything about him made Xander uneasy. He figured that there must be something up with the guy, especially given that he was a friend and old student of Giles. That alone was enough to indicate that this 'John Constantine' was going to be seriously messed up in some form. And that was just ignoring the Brit's personality.

_Dear God, that guy could make Angel seem like pleasant company. Even during the guy's 'evil phase'._

_And how is it does this guy still have working lungs? With all the cigarettes that he goes through, I'm surprised he hasn't got lung cancer._

A hand on his shoulder scared him out of his internal monologue – _alright, complaining. I was complaining. You happy, now? Geez_ \- back into awareness, and in a way, that didn't make him shriek at all. _Nope. I definitely did not shriek like a little girl._ Buffy's rather amused grin greeted him in return.

"Oh, hey Buffy." He said, as he tried to pick up what little of his manhood he had dropped.

"Glad to see you're still as vigilant as ever Xander." She responded with a small smile.

"Hey, every Batman needs a steadfast Robin."

"I'm guessing you're the Boy Wonder in this analogy?"

"Obviously. Although, I feel that we'd be more efficient at saving the world if at least one of us was a billionaire."

"No arguments here." She said, feeling just a little bit better at the lighter mood.

"So…"

"So…?"

"So… what's up with him?"

Buffy turned to Xander, eyes wide in shock and confusion. _Oh, god does he know about Angel?_

"Wha-What do you mean 'what's up with him?'" She asked, trying to suppress her anxiety.

"The resident 'petty dabbler of the dark arts'." He said, not noticing Buffy instantly relax. "I can tell that there's something just weird about the guy. I was wondering if you maybe found out why he's such a… a…"

"Hard-headed nutcase?" She finished.

"I was going to say human chimney, but an explanation for that would be nice too."

She giggled at Xander's description of the Brit, comforted just a bit by the fact that Angel was still a secret. In all honesty, she appreciated what little ease of tension she could find. Xander always had a great habit of picking her up whenever she felt down.

"Well, I can't say much as to why he's… the way he is." She said, getting her stake out for patrol. "I think we'd have to ask Giles about that."

"I figured that. A part of me wonders just what kind of a past Mr. Stiff Upper Lip had for him to be friends with someone like Constantine."

"I doubt they ever were friends considering how much they don't get along."

"Whatever. I just hope he doesn't turn out to be another Ethan Rayne."

Buffy gave a small laugh to disguise her nervousness at that statement. _Given our type of luck, he'll probably end up being worse than Ethan Rayne._

They continued on for a little while longer, the both of them trying to steer the conversation away from anything resembling nut-job magicians, Englishmen, or some horrendous combination of the two. They tried not to make themselves too active, which was quite easy given that there weren't much vampires this particular night. In fact, there were no vampires at all. If Buffy had to guess, Sunnydale Graveyard was probably devoid of any demonic presence. For tonight, at least.

_Typical. Well, at least it's going to be another easy night. I just hope the others are doing okay._

Xander couldn't but help to notice her shift in mood. "Are you alright Buff?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Alright. I'm the Queen of Alright…"

Halting his movements, he turned to look Buffy straight in the eye with a blank face, save for a singular raised eyebrow.

"Okay, fine!" She exclaimed, her weariness finally exposed. "It's just everything about this from-from the killings, to 'Mr. Constant-migraine', to this 'vampire' missing link just really doesn't sit well with me."

"It's not as if we've all had a sunshine parade either, Buff."

"I know. It's just…" She sighed, taking a breath. "I feel like there's something else beyond all of this. Have you ever gotten that weird feeling like something huge has just happened but you haven't noticed it?"

Xander nodded along, not exactly sure where this train of thought was going but deciding to play along. "Yeah. Like all the time."

_I mean I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, but I get what she means by that._

Trying to make sense of her point, she continued on a bit nervously. "It's just all too much to think about. I don't even know where I was going with that point. Everything just – just feels so screwed up now."

"Buffy, take a breath." Xander pleaded, grabbing her by the shoulders, as she followed his advice, "Good. Now, I know that I don't have first-hand experience about the whole "chosen one" type of deal, but I do know that you're so strong. Stronger than anyone one of us. Do you wanna know how I know? Because you've walked away from all this craziness and still decided to come back. How many people would be brave enough do that?"

She considered everything he was saying with care and attentiveness.

"So what if you need a bit of help from some chain-smoking weirdo wizard? Is he going to be the one to kick this vamp out of Sunnydale? You're strong, you're brave, and you're the Slayer. And for what it's worth, you're the reason Willow and I are better than we were, braver than we were. You inspire us."

Buffy couldn't help but be moved, comforted. She always appreciated Xander as being her heart, her tie to reality. He always seemed to know the right thing to say. She gave Xander a quick hug, remembering that despite the kindness of his words that they were still on watch for a deadly supernatural killer.

"Thanks Xander." She said, stepping back from their hug. "You know, for what it's worth, you guys inspire me too."

"No problem." He responded, all at once trying to play it cool whilst being moved and honored by her kind words. "Besides, at least now you get the chance see this brave new man in action."

"Excuse me?"

So much for the 'man of action' seeing as how those soft words, coupled with a tap on his shoulder was enough to send Xander shrieking away.

_Well, isn't that just manly of you, Harris?_

* * *

Father McKinley poured himself another glass of whiskey. The past couple of weeks had been tough for the whole town. The denizens of Sunnydale were used to mysterious deaths, as odd and painful as it was to admit. But never before in the history of the town did so many occur within such a short timeframe. The local police put out a statement pinning this on a serial killer. But Father McKinley never believed that.

He'd lived in Sunnydale his whole life. When he was a child, he heard the stories that the other boys would tell, saying that all the disappearances and deaths were the cause of some demonic evil. It was one of the reasons he joined the clergy in the first place. He'd had his fair share of the paranormal, so when the police put out their statement, he knew better. He knew that there was something deeper occurring. Something that the police department seemed determined to keep hidden.

Now here he was, sat among the markers of the dead and buried, drunk out of his mind on God knows how much whiskey. It was fair, he figured. He had five funerals scheduled for this week, and coupled with the news of the most recent death, he had cause to drink.

He knew the victim quite well. He didn't cry as when the news came that the body was identified as Emmeline Arcane. And he felt guilty because of that. So, he purchased a bottle of whiskey at the corner store and sat in the small chapel in Sunnydale Graveyard and drank himself to a stupor.

There was a toast with every sip of the glass. A toast to his long forgotten friends. A toast to the victims of the so called "serial killer" of Sunnydale. A toast to Emmeline Arcane, and that her soul may rest with her mother Amelia.

By 9 o'clock, he had almost finished the entire bottle. Thoughts drifted in and out of his head as he slumped back, lying on the chapel pew, and closed his eyes.

_Why do I bother going on?_

_How the fuck could God let this happen?_

_Next time, I ought to get Johnnie Walker…_

_Who's gonna tell Abby…?_

He drifted off into the realm of dreams, unaware of the woman slowly walking toward him.

* * *

Xander recovered from his shock just enough to hear a soft, mellow voice from behind him.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry."

The two of them turned around in time to be greeted by the sight of a young woman with long black hair in a tight black top and jeans. She seemed lost and a bit worried, looking quite out of place among the tombstones.

"Are you alright?" Buffy asked.

"Y-Yeah. I think so. I- I'm sorry it's just that my boyfriend said that he'd meet me here, but it's been nearly three hours and he hasn't come yet."

Buffy looked to Xander, a look of worry plastered on both of their faces.

"Ma'am, I think you'd better leave. Your boyfriend might be in some deep trouble right now and you don't want to be around to find out."

"No!" She half-screamed with an air of desperation. "I- I can't just leave him. He- he's my boyfriend for crying out loud!"

"It's alright. Just go back home where it's safe. We'll see if we can't find him." Buffy said, noticing that something was more than a bit off about the woman. It wasn't so much her Slayer sense telling her this as much as it was her own intuition.

"No. No. I've gotta find him." She said, panic in her eyes. "I- I know about the killings that have been going on. What if- what if the killer got to him? I can't just leave him out here!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow and looked to Xander who started to look just as skeptical as she already was. There was just something about the woman herself, her mannerisms, the way she spoke, her tone.

Before they could question her, Buffy felt a strong pulse go down her spine. She could feel something coming. Something strong and fast. And familiar. The wind had started to pick up, a soft breeze channeling through the various tombstones, blowing the autumn leaves up and swirling them about the graveyard.

She noticed that the entire world seemed to fall into a twilight of darkness, any light from the night sky seeming to fade away slowly. Xander looked up at the sky and saw that what was once a field of stars dotting the night, was now just a full monotony of darkness. Not a single flash of light was emanating through. Even the moon had seemed to be darken, any light that may have been there before, being eclipsed in a full absence of light.

Her Slayer sense was on high alert, prickling throughout her spine, increasing her awareness of the surroundings.

_What did Constantine call it, again? A wraith?_

"Buffy? What's wrong?" Xander asked.

"Shhh." She gestured him to be quiet as her eyes darted back and forth across the graveyard.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the familiar black outline of a ghostly specter drift slowly toward the three. She got her stake out and readied herself. If she was being honest, she didn't know if it would accomplish anything, seeing that it didn't exactly have a body to stake.

_But hey, a little wishful thinking never hurts._

"I-Is that…?" Xander asked, backing away slowly along with the others. "… that… one of those wraith things you ran into the other night?"

"Yup." Buffy responded simply.

"Well, Buff, I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but shouldn't you commence with the slayage right about now?"

"Xander, you heard what Constantine said. It's a ghost. It has no body. I can't exactly kill a ghost."

"That… that is a good point." Xander got out, reaching out to move the frantic woman behind them. "So, what do we do now?"

She made a quick scan of behind her, searching for something that could she could potentially use in deterring the wraith. She immediately saw statue of a winged man holding a sword, standing near a cluster of gravestones. She instantly recalled something that Constantine had said.

_"_ _The icon of Michael, the first archangel. Serves as a ward of protection against malevolent entities."_

_But is that supposed to be Michael, or is it…? Oh, crap. Better than nothing, I guess._

"Run toward the statue!" She shouted at Xander and the woman.

They quickly bolted toward the decorated grave, Buffy following not too far behind. It was at times like these that Buffy wished all that magicy mumbo-jumbo that Giles would teach her stuck. But in her defense, her Watcher never really mentioned anything about wraiths or angels, so she wasn't completely to blame.

_Thanks a lot, Giles._

As they reached the angel headstone, they turned to see if the wraith was still after them. They couldn't see anything once they checked, but Buffy knew that they weren't out of the fire yet. She noted that the wind had yet to subside and in fact, it was practically howling by then. As the three of them huddled under the statue, they saw that a sort of black hazy mist rush forward toward them. Buffy quickly held up her stake in a last minute bid for defense.

But before the wraith could strike, it halted abruptly. Xander opened his eyes to be greeted with the sight of a large black ghoulish figure, its face a hazy mist that resembled a skull made of smoke, suspended barely an inch in front of them. They all held their breath as they stared at the entity hovering in front of them.

"W-what happened?" The strange woman asked. "How come it hasn't got us yet?"

"Buff?" Xander asked, his confusion just as prominent.

"It's something that Constantine told me when we ran into the other wraith, last night. Statues of angels apparently work as ghost-repellent."

The dark-haired woman turned to her, surprise coating her eyes. Buffy didn't catch it, but Xander caught a short glimpse of it. Putting the moment aside, he let out a breath.

"Right, so we're safe as long as we're under this statue."

"Uh-huh." Buffy nodded.

"And unless the wraith somehow goes away on its own, we're stuck here."

"Unless, you know some magical gibberish, yeah. Pretty much."

Their panic was interrupted when the strange woman grasped her head in pain, one hand reaching up to her left temple. At the same moment, the wraith let out what Buffy could only describe as a scream. The difference being that it was so much stronger than a scream. She and Xander clutched at their ears as if a sonic boom had occurred within their vicinity. It was loud enough to leave a fracture on one of the wings of the angel statue.

The wraith then surged forward toward the woman, both of them dissipating in a billow of smoke. Regaining themselves, Xander looked to Buffy, not entirely sure what just occurred. He ran his hands across his face, both of them reeling in the wave of this layer of the supernatural that was stronger than expected.

"What the hell just happened there?"

"I… I don't know." Buffy could only reply.

But deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion of what may have caused this to happen. Well, two sneaking suspicions. She didn't know exactly how, they could have done it, or even if they knew what they had done. But she could tell. Besides, her and Xander weren't the only ones out and about that night.

_And if it wasn't Faith, then it's probably gonna be 'Mr. Constant-migraine'._

* * *

In a crypt, not too far away, a thick mist seemed to coalesce into a form that could have appeared to be human, had anyone been watching. From this mist, a dark-haired woman, pale with eyes full of life, gathered herself as she recovered from her recent piece of acting. She had to admit, she could see why Darius was so enamored with his little attempts at play-acting. All things considered, she rather enjoyed it herself. Which was why she would give him hell when he returned. Mary was never one for tolerating interruptions.

_Especially, when they disrupt a meal._

She clutched at her head, steeling the waves of nausea that seemed to hit like a tide against the coast. She knew that it was Darius in trouble, some sort of psychic connection. Mary never really understood the biology of it, but she could tell. It was almost as if it were instinct.

What she saw and felt was the sensation of being incinerated, as if she had stepped into some gasping, roaring inferno.

_Oh, what trouble has he stumbled across this time?_

As if on cue, Darius stumbled through the doors of the crypt, his face half-burned to a crisp. He collapsed onto the ground a tattered mess of melting flesh and burnt clothing. She could see the peeling flesh and the outline of his skull through the exposed muscle. Mary simply rolled her eyes in response, anger flaring up at the chaos that her fellow vampire seemed to have gotten himself into.

"You better have a good explanation for this. I was in the middle of something."

"As it happens", He spat out in pain, "so was I."

"Oh, I can tell." Mary said, looking him up and down. "So, what grand mischief have you fallen into in the name of our great and glorious monarch?"

"Our contact at the hospital informed the King of two… interlopers who were investigating our little job there a few weeks ago."

"And from the state of you, I'm guessing you handled the whole affair with as much tact and subtlety as a napalm bomb."

"There was…" He paused, recounting his discovery of the _other_ Chosen One. "… a new development, which forced me to escalate the situation."

"I see." She said walking around him, taking in his words.

Darius suddenly coughed, long and hard. Black ash falling out of his throat, as a mixture of bile and charred flesh erupted out with every cough. Mary, having had her fill of amusement at his pain, helped him up to his feet.

"You're lucky, Darius." She said, half supporting his weight. "I've got dinner waiting, already."

At the very end of the hall, was a priest, but you wouldn't be able to tell. His clothes had all been stripped from him, his nude body being crucified onto the stone relief of a crucifix that was carved at the back of the crypt. Despite all this, the smell of alcohol was profound. One could see why he had been caught so easily. He'd been drinking.

He had stopped shaking quite a while ago. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would think that this was just a side effect of the alcohol. His arms ached as the nails, burrowed deep in the stone walls, kept the blood from leaking out of his hands. Hanging on the wall, he tried to keep the tears and the vomit from coming out, but what leaked out instead was a low, agony filled moan.

Darius gave a broad smile at the sight. Despite Mary's faults, he had to admit that her timing was nothing but impeccable.

"Oh, I'm flattered." He said, mustering all the playfulness he had left in him. "I wasn't expecting dinner for two."

They both stepped forward, digging in to the feast that hanged above them. And all throughout the night, they dined to the blood of man, relishing the screams of the devout.

It would be the last time anyone would see Father McKinley.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a bit more for Xander, because I've been really short-changing him. I find him to be the hardest to write, because he's so real and grounded. That sort of explains why I took a tad bit longer than usual. But despite the difficulties, it was fun. I just hope that I've done him justice.
> 
> P.S. If you know where I got "Arcane" from, then I love you. I really do.


	18. The Truth is Rarely Pure...

**Chapter 17: The Truth is Rarely Pure…**

If someone had told Buffy that life at Sunnydale would escalate into something far more mad and chaotic then the madness and chaos she was already used to, she would've laughed in their face. But given how much her life had changed in the past few weeks with Faith's arrival, Angel's return, the mystery vamps wreaking havoc, and now Constantine's appearance on the scene, she would be willing to admit that the universe is far more lending in its role to madness.

It was a madness that had followed her since her return, and one that seemed to make its presence known to her as she walked through the school hallways, as she entered the library with Faith, as she took in the manifold bandages and bruises on Constantine's face, and as Giles explained to the others what he and Willow managed to find out.

"The King?" Buffy inquired, not really knowing what to make of this new development. "Of the Vampires?"

The last twelve hours had yielded new developments for everyone. The whole group had gathered in the library by now, updating each other on what they had managed to find out. Giles's investigation into the most recent victim was first up.

"Yes, it would appear so." Her Watcher said, wiping his glasses. "As much as I hate to admit it, you were right, John."

The chain-smoking mage only gave a small raise of the eyebrow.

"He's mentioned throughout various occult texts as nothing more than a myth, a story. There are accounts of tales told by Roman merchants who refer to him as the 'Venator Nocturnus', the Hunter of the Night."

"Hold up a minute." Xander interrupted, voicing not only his confusion but pretty much everyone else's. "Since when did the vampires have a king?"

"I always thought that they were all like a sort of… autonomous collective." Willow perked up absently.

"Or an anarcho-syndicalist commune?" John proffered with a grin, which made the red-head quite amused.

"Well, theoretically, they don't have a king. Or any one ruler." Giles continued, putting his spectacles back on. "The King is a myth among most scholars and occultists. Even amongst the Watcher's Council, he's been relegated to nonexistent. The stories about the King tell are varying and ancient. He's rumored to have existed for as long as humanity itself. Some say longer."

Giles opened up one of the books that John had brought with him and started to read…

* * *

_"_ _No one knows where the King of the Vampires originated, or why he should be king save for that he was the first of that kind to walk the Earth – but the identity of his first victim is common knowledge to those whose interests lie in such lore._

_The first to fall to the King of the Vampires was the first man on Earth._

_For even as infant humanity was born from the evolutionary chain onto the African Savannah, full of hope and promise and potential for a magnificent future, so the dark things that hold us back and feed upon our weaknesses were gathering, mouths watering at the prospect of so succulent a fest._

_And when the first man had indeed grown to be a man, and his own children danced under the sun with their mother, the vampire crept from the forests and watched his prey._

_The moon rose over Kilimanjaro like a pearl in a lake of deep and perfect blue, and dark red blood shot from butchered arteries. Humanity's fate was sealed with the snapping of a neck, the tearing of skin and the slow luxuriant sucking of every drop of the crimson prize within."_

_-Excerpt from_ _**A Complete Record of Vampire Mythology** _ _by Garth Ennis._

* * *

The room was silent as Giles finished his reading, save for the tap, tap, tap of Constantine's fingers on the library table. The blonde mage could only give a small twitch of his lips at the expressionless faces of the young guardians

"Thanks for the morale boost, Giles" Xander spoke up, piercing the silence with sarcasm.

"Well, my goal isn't exactly to comfort you." The more even-tempered Brit responded with more than a hint of exasperation. "I can't press upon you all the danger a figure like the King presents. Any and all information that exists on the King is scrupulous at best."

"If he's supposed to be as real as the boogeyman…"

"Well…" Constantine drawled out.

"John. Not now." Giles interrupted, before gesturing Xander to continue.

"… then how do you know we're dealing with this… this 'King'?"

"When Willow and I performed the Aramaic resurrection spell, the victim managed to give us a name before its effects wore off, 'Darius'. Some of the tales that speak of the King mention how this 'Darius' character is a member of the King's court."

"Darius?" Buffy raised an eyebrow at this revelation. "Sounds like a character from a rip-off Anne Rice novel."

"So, this guy has the full Round Table thing going on for him too?" Xander asked.

"That would be where his title as King comes in." Giles said, worry finally lacing his tone. "Since all the evidence points to him being a different type of vampire, it would make sense that his claim to rule would be over this undiscovered race of vampires."

"Why's that such a big deal?" Buffy asked. "If he's a vampire then wouldn't a stake in the heart be enough to kill him?"

"Not exactly, Summers." John piped up. "Faith and I had a lovely little encounter with Darius."

The whole group turned to John and Faith, shock lining their faces.

"Oh, yeah. The right -hand man to the King himself. A right wanker he was." He got out his pack of Silk Cuts. "But he's a dangerous bastard too. Faith tried to stake him last night, but it didn't seem to have much of an effect."

"Not much of an effect?" Willow asked, worried about what he had said.

"Well, to be honest, 'absolutely no effect' would be more accurate." He lit one of the cigarettes, smoke slowly beginning to cloud the library.

"Okay… I can see how that can be a problem." Buffy shook her head, stress slowly starting to build. _Is this going to be like Kakistos all over again?_

"Quite keen on the understatements today, I see." John snarked before turning to Faith. He noted how quiet she had been since they'd entered the library. It was fair enough considering how he had pretty much told her everything he knew last night. _But there's something else, isn't there?_

He took another long drag of his cigarette before turning to Giles, "Congratulations chief, looks like you're the first Watcher in history to have proof of the existence of a new breed of vampires."

"Wait so this King, he's one of these new mystery vamps you two have been going on about?"

"Yes, Buffy." Giles responded as he looked through the books that John had brought with him. "It would appear so. Which makes defeating him something of a challenge."

"A-A challenge?" Willow stuttered nervously.

"Given John's encounter with Darius last night, we're not entirely sure if the traditional method used to slay vampires will work on the King's breed."

"So we don't know if he can even be killed?" Willow worriedly shook out.

"That's not exactly a given Red." Constantine perked up, loosening his tie. "One thing that's a guarantee in my line of work, if it lives, then it can die."

"I could say the same." Buffy responded, standing up from her seat. "But this King, he's here in Sunnydale, and he's gone on a major killing spree, but that still doesn't explain _why_ he's here."

"That's a very good point, Buffy." Giles said, chastising himself slightly for not realizing such a thing earlier. "John, did you manage to find anything out during your encounter with Darius?"

He debated whether or not to tell the others about the full events of the previous night. He looked to the unreadable expression on Faith's face. Her eyes seemed to be full of unspoken worry. But he knew she wasn't the type to ask for help. _That's just great John. This is what I get for caring._

"Darius didn't tell us anything about our Royal Bloodsucker, but Faith and I managed to subdue one of his henchmen, one of the usual half-demon vamps you lot are used to. According to him, the King wants the Hellmouth as part of his kingdom." He dropped his cigarette in his finished cup of tea.

"Oh, dear God." Giles responded, having taken in everything that John had said.

"You could say that again, mate. The bastard intends to be here for the long run." John gave a small look of worry toward Faith.

"So, not only is this King the usual blood-thirsty maniac, but he also wants to play King Arthur with our town. So now what do we do?" Xander asked, voicing the one question on everyone's mind.

John reflected on the events of the previous night in exhaustion. _Now that's a bloody good question, son._

* * *

"Are you speaking the truth? You know how much I detest dishonesties." The King spoke with a seemingly mellow tone.

"Yes, My Lord." Mary replied fervently. "It came from the lips of the Chosen One herself. The Constant One is here on the Hellmouth."

The King reclined in his throne, lost in thought. Darius and Mary just looked to each other, not really knowing what thoughts were bubbling in the head of their master.

"Mary is telling the truth, my liege." Darius spoke up, misinterpreting the King's silence for disbelief. "Our little puppet in the hospital told us of someone interfering in her affairs. Someone by the name of Constantine."

"No, no, Darius. I don't doubt Mary's report." He sat back up, resting his chin on his hand in thought. "But that does beg the question: what shall we do about this new development?"

"I don't understand, the concern, My Lord." Darius replied. "He's just one man."

"He's not just _one man_ , Darius. He's the Laughing Magician." The King got up from his throne and started pacing the room. "He's infamous amongst the occult circles as a trickster, a con-man, and a very powerful mage."

Mary and Darius remained silent as they watched the King contemplate this "Constantine" individual.

"Just recently, he managed to outsmart the demon Nergal and prevent him from beginning the Final Battle between Heaven and Hell."

"My Liege," Interrupted Mary. "What shall you have us do with the Constantine?"

"Nothing, yet." He said, still deep in thought. "For now, I want you two to keep watch on him. If what you say is true and he really is cooperating with the Chosen One, the new may have a problem on our hands."

"Yes, My Lord." The two vampires responded.

Mary quietly dismissed herself from the makeshift hall, leaving Darius who remained in the King's presence. Once Mary had gone, he stepped up to the King.

"My Lord, if I may, I do have something else that I would like to discuss with you."

"Oh? What is it Darius?"

"Last night, there was something else on my investigation that you may take an interest to."

The King remained silent, only raising an eyebrow and gestured to his right-hand man to continue.

"This 'Constantine' character wasn't alone. He was there with someone else. A Slayer."

"A Slayer? So, she encountered you after Mary, then?"

"No, my liege. _Another Slayer._ "

Very rarely was the King of the Vampires ever truly shocked, and the words that flowed from Darius's mouth seemed to illicit his first true moment of surprise. He cherished it, the strange foreign feeling that coursed through his body.

"Another Slayer? Another Chosen One?"

"Yes, my liege. Her name is Faith."

The King could only smile at this news. It had been so very long since he feasted on a Slayer. They were delicacies, to be treated like the finest of wines. The King had only ever feasted on three Slayers in his lifetime. He remembered the taste very well. The last time he drank the blood of a Slayer was in the days of Ancient Rome. To sink his teeth into another would be something that he would leap at the opportunity to do so.

_After all, even with an endless life, these moments are so rare and few._

He slowly turned toward his right-hand man and stepped forward slowly, lust and excitement building within him. Their lips connected, all the yearning and passion and joy surging through him like a shock of electricity. His thoughts slowly drifted to the past as he and Darius slowly rid themselves of their frustrations within each other.

* * *

_"_ _The Vampire spent his happiest days in Rome, when Caesar's legions conquered the known world and decadence spread from the Empire's bloated heart through veins carved across whole continents._

_He was there with his teeth sunk deep into that heart and draining the lazy tissues from within. At orgies in the rich men's villas senators and slaves alike gave themselves to him, fallen under a glamour few could resist and few would even want to, so bored were they with everyday pleasures and seeking new, illicit thrills no matter what the cost._

_Lambs to the slaughter, thought the King of the Vampires, and blood from rich women's hearts pitter-pattered across the grapes on the feast tables. He sank his fingers through flushed skin, tickled ribs with a touch so gentle it was maddening, and finally stabbed deep to grasp and tear the dripping, pumping prize beneath._

_Nights of wine and roses and rich red water of life… the delicious splendor that was Rome."_

_-Excerpt from_ _**The Collected Journals and Vampiric Studies of Daniel Holtz** _ _compiled by William Simpson._

* * *

Xander's question still hung up in the air. This wasn't the first time that no one in the Scooby Gang knew what to do in the face of some supernatural creature with a desire to kill, but it was the first time that such a situation seemed quite hopeless. They had very little information on the King. It was as if they were having to face a myth. _How do you kill something that shouldn't exist?_

"Perhaps, we should see if we can find any more information on the King before addressing that question." Giles said, finally piercing the uncomfortable silence. "Buffy, did anything happen on your patrol?"

Buffy looked up to her Watcher, lost in the question her friend had posed, before responding, "Oh, um… we ran into a woman in the cemetery last night."

"A woman, you say? What was her name?"

"We don't know. She was all panicy and frantic. She said that she was lost and there was something about meeting with her boyfriend there but we never found him."

"Meeting? In a graveyard? How odd." Giles pondered at the additional information.

"We also had a run in with one of those wraith-things." Xander added, still not entirely sure what to make of their situation. "It got to her before we could do anything."

"What happened to her?" Constantine was intrigued now.

"We don't know. It screamed almost as if it were in pain and then it flew toward her and she just turned to mist." Buffy answered.

"Really?" John stood up, tensing slightly at the pain in his side caused from last night, and began walking absently around the table, lost in thought.

"Well?" Buffy questioned, trying to suppress her impatience.

"Well… what?"

"You heard what Xander and I said. And _you're_ the occult expert here. No offense Giles." Her Watcher looked more or less irritated at that remark. "Do you know what happened to her?"

"Honestly… no." Buffy could only roll her eyes at the mage's lack of knowledge.

"But, I _do_ know that wraiths have a psychic connection with their wardens." He said as he stepped in front of Buffy's seat. "If that wraith did scream, then something must have happened to whomever was controlling it."

Buffy took in the information before sitting upright in her seat and asking, "Was it… was it you guys?"

Constantine turned to her in confusion. _Now what is she on about?_ "You'll have to be more specific, Summers."

"You and Faith. You said you ran into the right-hand man of the King. Do you think he might've been controlling the wraith?"

John turned to Faith, taking in the distracted look on her face, before turning back to Buffy. "It's possible, but I wouldn't say for sure. It would depend on the strength of the psychic connection."

Buffy considered everything the mage had told her, not really knowing what to make of it all.

"This woman, you said you found in the graveyard. What did she look like?"

"Black hair, all curly, brown eyes…" Buffy paused, trying to recall what the woman looked like. "She looked around about your age."

"She was wearing a black corset tank-top, and these really, _really_ tight jeans, with a sort of-" Xander added, before noticing how everyone was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, tha-that's all I can remember."

Constantine nodded at the description, piecing together all the pieces in his mind.

_The King is here. On the Hellmouth._

_He wants to add this land of sunshine and honey to his kingdom._

_But why the stealth act?_

_And who the hell is the daft tart mucking about in a graveyard?_

_Why all this prancing about? I mean, he's the ruddy King._

_Unless he… oh._

_Oh._

_Oh._

_Oh… fuck._

_Christ, I need an aspirin. Or preferably a bullet to the temple…_

"Okay, we need to find this woman. I can assure you that she isn't dead, because that's not how wraiths kill their prey. My best guess is Mary was taken by the wraith." He started suddenly to the shock of the others. "I'll be tagging along with Ms. Summers and Ms. Lehane on patrol tonight, see if we can't try to find our ditzy damsel in distress."

"And what will you be doing John?" Giles asked trying to keep up. "I'm not one to judge, but you're not exactly skilled in combating evil in the same way these two are."

"Oh, thanks for the concern 'dad'." He replied mockingly with his trademark grin. "But don't you worry about me. I'll be well behind the front lines."

"You've got something up your sleeve." Buffy said with conviction. She crossed her arms, more than upset at not knowing what the guy's plan was. "What are we meant to be doing?"

"I don't know yet." He said, getting out the list of vampires Giles had given him. "But if we can find out where that woman was taken to, I'm willing to bet that it'll also be the stomping ground for our royal pain-in-the-arse."

"And what can we do?" Willow asked as she and Xander looked primed and ready to join them in patrol.

Constantine paused for a moment as he gave them a blank look.

"You two aren't coming with us."

Disappointment couldn't come close to describing the looks on their faces.

"Guys, Constantine is right." Buffy told her friends, weighing in. "We've no idea what's coming and I don't want to put you guys in the line of fire if something goes wrong."

"But Buffy-"

"Relax you two." The mage interrupted. "I've got something more important lined up for you two."

Buffy, Willow, and Xander all turned to him in confusion. If they could read each other's thoughts, they would have heard more or less the same thing.

_Oh, boy._

Constantine smiled a crooked smile, but before he could expand on his plan the school bell rang. For the three students, it was the end of lunch and a return to the daily grind of high school life.

"You better get back to class now." Giles told the pupils. "Constantine can fill you in on the rest of the details after your final class."

The three nodded before they got their bags and walked out of the library. Faith who was silent and appeared rather inattentive throughout the whole meeting, suddenly got up and stalked away from the library, her boots clicking on the floor with each step.

John sighed, trying to ignore the pain from the bruises and his confusion over Faith. He got out his flask and took another sip of his liqueur. _I should've known. This is what happens when I fucking "get involved"._

He took a deep breath before he slowly turned back to face his old mentor.

"Now then, we need to talk."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References galore! If you can spot them all, good for you! If you can't well, don't worry. They probably weren't all that important to the plot. Well, to be perfectly honest they really aren't, but they're just fun to include. 
> 
> And if you found Faith's silence to be a bit uncharacteristic, don't worry. All will be explained in the next chapter. It'll serve as a "Part 2" to this chapter.


	19. ... And Never Simple

**Chapter 18: … And Never Simple**

Faith was lost in her thoughts, which was something she wasn't particularly big on. But with the living shit-storm of snark and cigarettes that had sauntered into her life, she found having to deal with her feelings better than dealing with him. But at least the ass-hat listened to her when she demanded she tell him what the flying fuck was going on. The end result of his revelations however, only added to her ever-growing shit-list of headaches on the Hellmouth. It turns out a lot had happened in the last two days.

_Christ, has it only been two frickin' days?_

The thought of it all just made her tired. Not physically tired, but that sort destabilizing emotional/mental tiredness that she often associated with her period. Given all that happened, she wished that was the cause. But being wanted by some pervy, pretty-boy uber-vamp seemed more likely. And counting the fact that the fang-faced douche reminded her of the same bastard vamp that killed her Watcher. Plus, the resident Brit-bastard wasn't exactly making her feel any better.

She didn't talk much during her "report" to Giles. The way she saw it, she already knew everything that John was going to say, so why bother speaking. She could tell that he knew she was unsettled by it all so she immediately left when the school bell rang.

It wasn't that atypical for her to just "go through the motions" of life. She wandered the town for a bit, she picked up a coffee, went back to her motel and sat for a while, basically anything to distract herself. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work this time.

Checking her watch, she realized that it was almost time to meet up with Buffy.

_Finally! Time to get my slay on._

She grabbed her denim jacket and ran out the door.

* * *

It was fascinating, and slightly troubling, for Rupert Giles to note that he could be troubled by everything that John Constantine would say. Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he turned to the mage.

"What is it this time, John?" Giles tried his best not to sound to unnerved.

In response, he opened up his carpet bag and placed a paper on his desk.

"What's this?" Giles asked, befuddled.

"That," He pointed aggressively, "is a report confirming Dr. Vestra Cameron as hospital administrator."

"And what exactly is so significant about it?" Giles asked, almost absently as he read through the paper.

"Perhaps the fact that it confirms your suspicions of some third-party involvement." He said as he scanned the shelves of Giles's library. "Christ, I fucking hate conspiracies."

"I can't tell what about this indicates that- oh. Oh, I see…" Giles slowly removed his glasses as he read the through the report. His eyes focused on one aspect of paper, something in the fine print to be precise. He looked back up to John, confusion and concern taking control of his eyes.

"And the penny drops, eh?" John could only nod in response to the man's look of realization. "We're in the shit now, chief."

"We?" Giles asked rather shocked.

John sighed and turned away from him. He didn't like getting drawn into anything long-term these days. If everything that went on in Newcastle wasn't enough, the whole medley of blood and chaos that went down with the Resurrection Crusade and the Damnation Army was enough for him to want out of the game. Or at least a pause from it.

_Christ, if only Zed could see now. She'd probably tell me to get me head out of me arse…_

"Look, Giles. Under any other circumstances, I'd tell you to buck up and deal with this shite yourself." He took out his flask and downed a quick drop. "But even I'm not that much of a twat to leave you lot to deal with this fucking shambles on your own."

Giles nodded absently, not expecting this from his old problematic student. "So, does… does this mean that you-you're going to stay?"

John gave the Watcher a blank look. He knew it would be a risk. After all, he'd already attracted enough unwarranted attention from the King. Staying on the Hellmouth could only lead to mayhem. But if the recent developments were true, then his tendency to attract crazy shit was going to be the least of their problems.

"Well," He gave a sardonic and slightly bleak grin, "I still fucking owe you, don't I?"

_Bollocks. I never learn do I?_

* * *

If Buffy could be grateful about any aspect of the current status of her life right now, it was the fact that she managed, thanks to Willow's help to catch, up with at least one of her classes. As she walked out of the classroom, having finally reached that golden time of 3:00 pm, she made her way to the library as a final stop before heading home.

As she pushed open the doors, she saw Constantine talking to Willow and Xander. The battered-up mage, noticing her appearance, immediately ended his conversation with her friends before turning to her.

"Ms. Summers, about bloody time." He limped slightly toward her. "I was just having a small chinwag with your friends."

He gestured to their retreating forms as they left the library with a quick, "See ya Buffy" from both of them.

"Oh? What about?" She asked, her threat implicit in her tone. _If this guy has something dangerous lined up for them…_

"Words, mostly." He put out a cigarette that he'd been smoking.

"Words?" She asked, disbelieving his response. "What words?"

"Words. Words, words, words…" He ran his hands over his face before crossing his arms. "And blood too."

Buffy could only raise his eyebrow at this. She figured at this point he was being purposefully vague just to piss her off.

"Blood?" She stepped forward, crossing her own arms, facing him. "You're gonna have to be more specific."

He gave her what was intended to be a reassuring smile. "I've got them working on a small inquiry I've picked up. Don't worry yourself Summers, it's all harmless."

She slowly, and reluctantly, nodded at his words. It was moments like these, and the fact that enough of these moments had already occurred in the past two days, that really conflicted her. She knew that he was competent in his magic and his capabilities. But that feeling of unease that emanated from him seemed to block her willingness to trust him. All his actions, all his mannerisms, and now all his secrets seemed to prevent her from fully trusting him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You've been doing nothing else so far."

"Do you lie awake at nights thinking up new ways to be an asshole, or does it just come naturally?" _Because I swear to God, even Spike wasn't this much of a pain._

"It comes naturally." He responded instantly and with every ounce of seriousness on his face.

Buffy could only keep from screaming her head at him for so long. _I seriously can't believe that **he** is my best shot at dealing with Angel._

"They're an interesting lot, your mates, aren't they?" He moved to light up another of his god-awful cigarettes.

"They're good friends. They're willing to put up with an unconscionable, magic-wielding, chimney of a man." She was slowly tiring of him and she could tell that he knew. And what bothered her the most was that he didn't seem to care.

"Oh, certainly." He paused in his actions as he turned to look straight at her. "They're also willing to pick up the slack of a Slayer gone AWOL. Right good kids they are."

At those words Buffy seemed to fume, fired up at how this Sting-wannabe seemed to callously treat her past. But what spark there was seemed to die down, over the truth of his words.

"I don't need to explain myself to you." She quietly seethed out, the venom in her words trying to mask the guilt.

"I never asked you to, Ms. Summers." He retorted. "Now if we're done with this whole "pity-for-one, pity-for-all" bollocks, we can get on to business."

"What business? You've been so cryptic, I can't tell if you're taking this seriously or not."

"You can't accuse me of that."

"Of what? Being an ass?"

"Of being cryptic." He took out his flask and knocking back a quick swig of whatever alcohol he'd subscribed to today, sat on the table. "I've been vague and at best unclear. But never cryptic."

"Yeah, but- Okay, what the hell is your point?" She walked up to her, face to face with him.

"Accuse me of being an arse, fair enough. But I am above _pretension_." He gave her that migraine-inducing grin of his.

"You got that right, Johnny boy." A familiar voice chimed in.

Buffy turned her head to see Faith leaning against the open library doorframe, a small smirk lined across her face.

"Am I interrupting something here?" Faith teased, having caught the tail-end of Buffy and John's argument.

"Other than this guy's potential murder, no." Buffy replied, grateful that she didn't have to face the exorcist alone.

"Right, now before you two start gossiping, may I remind you that we've got work to do." John piped up from behind them.

Faith gave a simple shrug, "Ready when you guys are."

Buffy gave the mage a short glare. "I'm all set."

"Lovely. Now, then Ms. Summers," He said, picking up his carpet bag from the table, "where exactly was it that you encountered our absentee damsel-in-distress?"

* * *

There was just something about patrolling the cemeteries of Sunnydale that seemed to bring a sort of peace of mind to Faith. The thrill, the chase, the slay, it all seemed to calm her profoundly. Or at least the anticipation of it.

Patrolling with Buffy was something that she learned to love. Having to work with another slayer is something that took a bit of getting used to, but the two of them seemed to work together well. Patrolling with John "Dickhead" Constantine was… something else.

_I think 'awkward' is the best word to describe it._

Faith looked back at Constantine who was walking just a step behind her and Buffy, his expression was tired bordering on bored. He was lazily carrying the stake she had given him, as he seemed lost in his own weird world. The whole thing felt wrong, or whatever classified as wrong for her these days. It was an emotion that she rarely felt, and one that he, oddly enough, seemed to elicit from her quite easily.

But then again, there was something just inherently wrong about two young 18/19-year-old girls walking about in a graveyard with a strange man in a trench coat.

Buffy, followed her gaze, smirking slightly at Faith's look of worry. _But then again, I imagine it's probably odd to **not** be worried around him._

"So… you two been getting along fine?" She asked, trying to get their minds off the whole chaos of their ordeal.

"More or less." Faith responded, trying to sound active. "It's all been very back and forth with him."

"Not hard to imagine." Buffy snorted. "Your guys' styles seem to clash quite a bit."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Understatement of the century, B."

_A_ _helluva an understatement, at that._

"I know, I know." Buffy responded. "It's just that you haven't killed him, so I assumed you two have some kind of understanding."

"Yeah, right." She scoffed. "He saved my life and he's not a waste of space. That's all there is."

_T_ _he last thing I want is to go all "buddy-buddy" with him._

"Are you sure?" Buffy asked, her curiosity seeming to get the better of her.

"What are you saying, B?"

"Nothing! Nothing, just…" She paused, trying to think of the right words to say. "…you didn't seem to be yourself today. I mean, you didn't say much back when we were meeting up with Giles-"

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." Her voice was laced with a subtle, yet growing temper.

Buffy wondered if she should press on with her questioning. After all, she did care about Faith's well-being given everything that happened with Kakistos.

_Probably best not to bring that up…_

"Faith, I'm just-"

"Enough about me," Faith interrupted. "How have you two been getting along?"

"Um…well enough. Why do you ask?" Buffy replied, shocked at the sudden change of conversation, and trying not to sound defensive.

"Because you just did." Faith smirked. "And I saw you two back at the library. You two seemed to be getting along 'well enough'."

"How much of that did you hear?" Buffy reddened slightly, doing her best not to cringe.

"Enough." She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, striding alongside her fellow Slayer. "Enough to realize that you two definitely have something going on."

"That 'something' is probably disgust. Or just a massive headache."

"True but you gotta admit for an ass-hat, he's a fine piece of ass."

Buffy hesitated in answering. "I'm… neither confirming… nor denying that statement."

"Relax, B. I'm only messing with you." Faith gave a small giggle at Buffy's flustered response. "Besides, even I can see that he ain't exactly Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows."

She had a brief flashback to what he said last night. _I'm more along the lines of_ ' _The Saint of Last Resorts'._ She tried not to let it unsettle her further.

Buffy opened her mouth to continue, but from behind them a gruff accented voice popped up, "I can hear every-bloody-thing that you ladies have been saying."

They both spun around to see the self-proclaimed 'master of the dark arts' squatting over a tombstone, staring peculiarly at a patch of grass near a tombstone. Buffy and Faith both gave him an odd look. He quickly stood back up and strode clumsily toward them, the limp in his leg not as bad as it was earlier that day. He laughed at the mixed look of confusion. Embarrassment, and surprise on their faces.

"S'alright if you birds think I'm a right tosser." He got out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. "If anything, I should be flattered. A waste of space is the best thing any girl's thought about me for a while now."

"Okay…" Buffy drawled out, not knowing what to make of his digression. _Gee, talk about 'low self-esteem'. Probably justified, though._

"Yeah, I can totally see that." Faith nodded thoughtfully. _Not surprising really._

"Well, taking a moment from your unsuccessful relationships," She paused hearing a snort from Faith, she looked the mage straight in the eyes, "just what the hell are we supposed to be doing?"

"We're drawing the king out of his castle." He breathed out a puff of smoke. "But to do that, we have to draw out his little bitch-servants first."

He paused taking a quick look around. They had stopped at the same spot that Buffy and Xander had encountered the nameless woman and the wraith.

"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" Buffy asked, slightly worried about the mage had in plan.

"Yeah, you've not exactly been straight-forward with us Johnny-boy." Faith crossed her arms, a part of her wondering why she was even putting up with him.

"Allow me to alleviate your worries, then." He dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe.

To that response, Buffy and Faith could only look back to each other, exasperation in their eyes. They'd only known John Constantine for the better part of three days and they already knew that any plan that he would come up could mean any number of things, with one result being a guarantee: chaos.

With a simultaneous sigh and a quick roll of the eyes, the two Slayers readied themselves to hear his scheme. Both of their thoughts echoed the same sentiment.

_Well, here we go again…_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More revelations, sort of. I'm teasing you guys, of course. But yeah, I hope this serves to explain some slight OOC things about Faith from the previous chapter. It's all justified in the end, I hope.


	20. The Wheels Are Set in Motion

**Chapter 19: The Wheels Are Set in Motion**

To say that Xander was nervous was one hell of an understatement. It would be the first time that he actively took part in something inherently occult-y. Sure, he had Willow for help, but still he was by no means a magician. But Constantine seemed confident enough to place some measure of trust in him. It made him more suspicious of the man now, more than ever.

He recalled what the so-called "Master of the Dark Arts" had told him about the nature of magic. It was an interesting theory about magic to say the least...

_"…_ _I'm not entirely sure about this." He ran his hand through his head as Constantine informed him and Willow about his plan._

_"_ _If it's the magic you're worried about, don't worry yourself. There's nothing to it."_

_"_ _Yeah, sure you say that, but you're a 'master of the dark arts'. And even Willow's had a bit of practice. But I don't know the first thing about magic! What if I mess it up? I mean – "_

_"_ _Take a breath, mate. At the end of the day, magic – all magic – is a dodddle. Do you wanna know why?"_

_Xander gave a gentle nod as the Brit leaned over and whispered to him…_

"Okay, Xander. You ready?"

He shook himself out of the memory and turned to Willow who had the book open in her hands. By comparison she seemed excited, confident, willing to do the deed. It was fair enough to have Willow do this, but apparently, it was a spell that needed two other people for it to work. And Giles was off doing his own thing so that left him.

_Lucky me._ "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

He held up the pager that Constantine had given to him. Nothing so far, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"But there's nothing from Constantine yet."

Willow nodded as she and Xander looked down at the sigil that she was told to carve into the floor.

* * *

Buffy was beginning to wonder how she had ended up in this scenario. For her, life as a vampire Slayer started out weird, but there soon grew a mundanity to the whole chaos that she had somehow managed to find. It felt like a 9 to 5 job, even with the drama of stuff like the Master and Angel losing his soul. But there was just something about Constantine that seemed so out of place, not only in terms of him as an individual, but in terms of his presence.

She knew that it was all real. Her talk with Faith yesterday confirmed it. Their "consultant" was definitely off, and not just in terms of personality. It's like whenever he was around she had to struggle to maintain focus. Like if there was a rope that tied her to Slayer abilities, then he was plucking it like a harp.

_How the hell does he do that? Is it him? Or something else? Does he even know that he's doing it?_

That disturbed sense of nature wasn't something she found comforting. It didn't help that his plan may have been one of the maddest ones that she'd ever heard. Mind you, she wasn't unfamiliar with mad and dangerous ideas. As far as she was concerned, once you go rocket launcher there's no going back. But a part of her wondered just why she decided to go along with it.

_I mean, I know that it's a crazy idea, but why did I agree to it? Was it just the exasperation of dealing with it? Probably, but I feel like there's something else…_

A twig snapping from behind her brought her ought of her thoughts and instantly into Slayer-mode. She had to admit that she never really managed to find an emotional catharsis for the past few months. Everything from having to sacrifice Angel to running away to Faith showing up and now Constantine interfering with his suicidal strategies, all stewed in her mind, threatening to reach boiling point.

Five vampires emerged from the cluster of trees behind her and she could tell that more were on the way.

_So far, so good… I think._

Getting her stake out, she placed herself into her usual combat stance, ready for the onslaught of the undead. And for the first time in, what was for her a long time, she was looking forward to it.

* * *

Faith was never one for plans, or at least those overtly detailed plans that the Watchers seemed quite fond of. She just threw herself into whatever situation she had to deal with. But since she arrived at Sunnydale she began to slowly get used to the Scooby Gang's methods. Granted, she would still more or less do her own thing, but she would at least try to cooperate with Buffy and Giles. This slight compromise of method was something that she regretted now.

_I don't do 'trust'. Hell, I'm just barely getting along with Buffy._

_So, why the hell did I agree to this kamikaze ride?_

With a deep breath, she clutched the pendant that was given to her. He said that it was supposed to act as a ward against vampires, or at least the ones she was used to. Or the ass-faced, half-demon, ugly-as-shit ones to be precise.

It was a terrible plan, just to get it out there. Nothing about it seemed foolproof or logical or safe, which for her would usually be fine. It wasn't as if she ever operated by those standards before. But that was when she relied on herself and only herself. Now she relied on Buffy to a degree and John for this. And for this, Mr. Magic somehow managed to think up – _and I use that term loosely –_ the most idiotic plan ever.

_Jesus, this guy is so messed up. How the hell is he one of the good guys?_

Stalking through her section of the Sunnydale Graveyard, she was on high alert. After all the shit that went down last time with the His Majesty's Loverboy, she'd be damned if she was caught off guard this time. She knew that the crux of the whole thing depended on her. It was at times like these she missed slaying on her own.

_Because having no plan is always better than having a crappy one._

* * *

Willow knew just as much as Xander that trusting Mr. Constantine wasn't exactly a comforting thought, but it was the best option they had. For the first time, they were all out of their depth and three days after the snarky mage was called into help, they were already planning how to take down the Big Bad.

She hadn't told Xander and Buffy about her eavesdropping slightly on Giles the other day. Their trust in the mage was tentative at best, but they did need him. Add to that, the fact that she didn't know the full story between him and Giles. It was definitely personal so she highly doubted that Mr. Constantine would stick around if they confronted him with that. And given his results, who was she to judge?

_I mean we've all done questionable things at one point or another._

Besides, he was the real deal when it came to magic. The vast wealth of occult knowledge he held just by memory, was excuse enough for her. The sigil he has given her to draw was something that seemed completely foreign to her. Of course, most occult sigils were written in foreign languages, but she didn't recognize the one he had given to her. He'd said it was in any language that she or any human would recognize. If anything, it looked almost like a tree.

_He's definitely not being clear about that._

She never bothered asking what it means. Well she did, but she was instantly rebutted with Mr. Constantine's assurance that it was just a bit of "esoteric vocabulary", and that it didn't mean much, and that she should probably be more worried about breaking into the hospital rooftop.

Having been warned by Giles to discontinue her practice of the mystic arts, she wasn't comfortable with having to practice magic behind his back. She was glad that Xander was with her to help. It made things feel a bit more in control.

_I know it isn't but hey, a girl can dream._

* * *

A deep breath, a swig of whiskey, a puff on his cigarette. He liked it. The little things, that is. It didn't take a philosophical mind to realize that the tiniest of details that are always important. Alright, maybe he thought a fair amount of it was bollocks, but it definitely counted for one thing: pleasures.

Given his sorry lot in life, he figured that any small pleasure would do. And they did. And he tried not to take it for granted. Everything from the feel of a warm blanket, to the color of a light gray sky, to the taste of his Silk Cut cigarette after abiding to this country's god-awful smoking restrictions. To John, the little things always mattered. Or the ones that he could afford, at least. And right now, he really wished that he could afford a sane idea.

_Just another day on the bloody job, eh? Fuck me…_

He readied himself for the onslaught to come. Having carved all the sigils onto the grave markers, he sat down on a gravestone, still nursing from the beating he took the other night. He knew he was terrible at punch-ups, no least fighting vampires. This time he'd be prepared, having the two Slayers at the forefront of combat.

_Hopefully this time I can avoid having the ever-living fuck kicked out of me._

If there was any guilt about using the Slayers, he justified it with the whole "they were chosen" crap. It was a shite excuse, but he figured that they had a better chance fighting off vampires than he did. He didn't know Ms. Summers personally, but given that she was still alive despite having been called for some time now, he figured she could handle herself.

It was Faith that he was worried about the most. He didn't like admitting it to himself, but he did. And he was. He'd heard tales of the King during his time studying the various magics of the world, from different mages all accomplished in their unique occult studies. He knew about the type of vampires that the King sired. And if his encounter with Darius was any indication, then he feared he may have sent Faith off to her death.

_She's a Slayer, she has the pendant, and she's a tough bird._

_So, for fuck's sake Constantine, stop molly-coddling her._

_She'll be alright._

Thoughts from what felt like eons ago bubbled up back again into his head. A voice from the past echoed to him. He couldn't tell if it was a memory or a ghost. He figured it was probably both. He tended to be unlucky that way.

_"_ _I can see it now... it's not that you don't care, it's that you can't care about anybody and do what you do."_

He shook away the haunting voice of Sister Anne-Marie and checked his watch. He figured that Buffy's mates would have made it to the hospital rooftop by now. He needed them at that vantage point so the spell would affect the whole town. He put another cigarette to his mouth, lit it, and squashed away any possible guilt or worry.

Readying himself for the inevitable, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of wood that was no bigger than his index finger. He already had a lot of doubts about all this. After all he wasn't some spandex-clad superhero on a mission for the righteous. Everything about this just screamed stupidity and danger, much like the rest of his life. But this – _this specifically –_ more than anything was what worried him the most.

Never mind having one Slayer go up against a potentially countless horde of vampires. Plus, as far as he was concerned, two high school students performing esoteric magic was a piece of piss to handle. And even though using Faith as bait for that cunt-faced twat of a vampire had him on edge, he still didn't consider that the most troublesome part of his plan.

_Bloody hell, a_ _s if_ _**he** _ _isn't pissed off enough at me as it is. But then again, when have I ever really cared about that daft sod's happiness?_

One hand ran through his hair as he looked down to the other hand, clutching the piece of dried tree root.

_Besides, the bastard **does** owe me._

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Buffy felt like she was in control of the situation. She knew that it was all part of Constantine's plan, but still the illusion felt more refreshing than ever. Faith had gone off to draw this Darius guy from out of his hiding place which left her to deal with the detritus. The regular lumpy-faced vamps that she was quite used to.

A roundhouse kick knocked one off his feet sending him collapsing onto the one behind him. She turned instantly and gave a quick stab with her stake at another vamp that tried to charge at her. Dust in an instant.

Her concerns over the plan dissipating for a fleeting moment she gave a quick smile to the two who were left. She got back into her fighting stance, fists up, determination in her face.

Snarling, the two vamps lunged forward at her. By the time she was done, there were at least eight piles of dust scattered throughout the area.

_Well, nothing's gone wrong yet. Maybe this will work._

She heard a rustling from behind her and readied herself for the coming onslaught.

_Just another day in the life of a vampire slayer._

* * *

Faith didn't know how long she'd been out here, but she was sure of one thing. Her patience was wearing thin. She figured she must be close to the other end of the graveyard by now, and still not a single sign of that Nancy-boy freak. She clutched at the pendant around her neck, hoping that the magic it contained was working.

She never really paid attention to her first Watcher when she gave her lessons on the hocus-pocus parts of Slayer life. It wasn't entirely her fault that the whole magic thing seemed boring when her Watcher explained it to her. But the way John described it made it seem more mysterious. More chaotic. More… sexy.

_"_ _What… that's it?" Faith asked hesitantly. "That's your plan?"_

_"_ _Pretty much, luv." He turned to Buffy. "It's not much, but it's our best shot at getting to the King."_

_"_ _Are you sure about this?" Buffy asked, concern lining her face._

_"_ _No, not at all." He answered, a morbid honesty in his voice. "You'd better get a head start Ms. Summers. And remember: avoid the mist."_

_Buffy nodded to Constantine and gave Faith a quick pat on the arm before running off to do her job. They turned and watched her disappear into the night, his plan already in motion._

_"_ _Okay, Johnny-boy, I don't know how long you've been dealing with this horror movie crap, but you're crazy if you think – "_

_Her tirade was cut off as John quickly stepped forward toward her, his head tilting down toward hers, as if to kiss her. She could feel his breath on her lips, a surge of ecstasy and sudden nerves coursing through her body, and she instinctively moved her head up toward him._

_And just before any contact could be made, he drew back and told her in a half-whisper, "Think of it as a bullet-proof vest."_

_She looked down and saw the pendant he used from the other night was hanging from her neck. Taking it in her hands she looked back up to John confused and slightly speechless. She opened her mouth to ask what it was when he instantly started speaking._

_"_ _It belonged to a vampire hunter in the mid-18_ _th_ _Century named Daniel Holtz." Answering the question that she was just about to ask. "It contains powerful protection magic against vampires. Or at least the ones you're used to."_

_She remained silent for a minute._

_"_ _I'm not an idiot." She stared at him long and hard, his face just inches away from hers. "I'm the bait aren't I?"_

_He closed his eyes and gave a simple nod, a gesture that felt almost like a death sentence to her._

_She couldn't blame him. At least not entirely. But she figured it would get to this point again. Without another word or expression, she walked off into the night knowing full well her part in this._

She took a deep breath and did her best to purge that memory from her mind. The last she thing she needed now was to get distracted. He was insufferable, annoying, and a pain the ass. Yet somehow, he seemed to be the only person who could actually surprise her. And nothing surprised her these days. _Nothing._

_"_ _For what it's worth," she heard him call to her as she headed into the graveyard, "I have faith in you."_

_She didn't respond. She didn't even turn around. But she could feel a small twitch in her cheeks as she felt herself smile for just a moment._

_I'm glad one of us does Johnny-boy._

Refocusing herself at the task at hand, she dropped the pendant and looked around checking for anything he told her to look out for. Mist, wolves, long haired douches with fangs. She shook her head out of boredom and continued walking.

Occasionally she would hear the rustle of leaves here and there, along with the slight feel of the hair at the back of her neck standing on end. She knew that there were vampires about, and it seemed that the pendant was keeping them away, but thus far no fancy-ass Darius. She wondered why the vamp had taken such an interest in her. It wasn't new to her, being the target of some undead freak of the night. In fact, she'd barely managed to get over the last vampire who was hunting her.

_But this… this is different. He doesn't want to kill me. Reckon he wants me to be some play-thing for his fucking Royal Highness._

Taking a deep breath, she started back toward the way she came. Maybe she'd go and see if she could reach the other side. When John told her that she needed to patrol the whole area, save for the section where B and Xander met little Miss Eye-Candy, he wasn't exactly specific about how far to go. Now that she thought about, she said squat about how to get their attention.

She wouldn't try screaming because it'd be ridiculous and it wasn't her thing. She was a fighter first and foremost. Besides, the only place she'd allow herself to scream would be in the bedroom. And even then, she still hadn't met anyone good enough to make her. Her thoughts drifted toward Constantine for a fleeting moment, before her common sense squashed that idea like a bug. Even she understood that path would only end in blood and/or tears. Probably both, she figured.

_Doesn't mean I can't have my little fantasies…_

Her rather promiscuous train of thought was interrupted by a different kind of feeling. That sharp feeling of adrenaline and awareness seeping in from the base of her spine. She took a quick observation of her surroundings and saw from a rundown crypt a sort of mist seeping out from the inside.

_This is it._

In the blink of an eye, she started running across the grass and graves back to where she started. She'd reached the point of no return now.

_God, I hope this works._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. John Constantine has a plan. For those who've read the Hellblazer series, you know that someone is going to get conned, in some way.
> 
> If you're clever, you know where this is leading. Probably. I mean, I've left tiny clues throughout the chapter and made very small allusions. But I have made them quite tiny.


	21. Points of Convergence (No. 2)

**Chapter 20: Points of Convergence (No. 2)**

The staccato beat of her pulse was ringing through her ears as she ran through the brush, stepping over the graves of countless people. Every step, every huff, every pant, felt like some weird new sensation for her. Usually it would be the adrenaline of the slaying, that sweet high she would get with every kill, but this was something else. Something she'd never admit aloud, let alone to herself. This was fear.

A quick look back showed a sort of hazy gray mist following her like a ghost stalking through the graves, thick like a chemical fog, as if it was a plague. She kept her pace steady and slowly made her way to the middle of the graveyard, where she knew that Buffy was clearing out the rest of the vamps that were lurking around.

_So far so good…_

That thought seemed to come to her too soon, as she felt herself come to a sudden stop. It felt as if she was yanked out of some heightened state of being, her fear-as-ecstasy being replaced with the sobering reality of a hand gripping her throat.

_And I just had to jinx it, didn't I?_

Faith soon felt herself hurdling into the ground, almost colliding with a headstone. The shock of the whole thing seemed to stun her as she failed to resist the hands tightening around her arm and neck. From the darkness, she could make out the face of her vamp-stalker. The familiar sight of a humanoid body forming out of mist manifested in front of her once again as Darius, holding her up with his one hand brought her closer to him.

"Ah, ah, ah. Now where do you think you're going, my dear?"

* * *

Somewhere in the ether of the night, under the statue of Michael the Archangel, an unholy mess of a man smoked his cigarette. He waited for the midnight hour, to begin his part of the plan.

Because midnight was his deadline. His and everyone else's. It was only at midnight that points would begin to converge. His thumb ran over the Chi-Ro symbol he had painted on the root. It was a desperate plan and this would be the seed that would grow into their salvation, hopefully.

It had been almost two years since he last spoke to him. The two of them had been on sketchy ground last they saw each other. He wondered if he'd still be pissed off at him, or if the soggy twat would be a bit more benevolent given what he'd done for him.

_Ah, who am I kidding? The ungrateful sod's gonna go into advance dry rot the minute he sees me in_ _**any** _ _context._

He took a deep breath, staring at the pale white crescent moon, as visions of a club in Newcastle haunted his mind.

* * *

A stake in the heart. A scream of pain. A pile of dust.

All in all, there were fifteen vampires who tried having a go at her. Twelve of them turned into a pile of dust while the rest turned and ran away.

_So much for loyalty._

Catching her breath after that cacophony of combat and slayage, she scoped out the rest of the area wondering how the others were doing, most of all Faith. Being well aware of what Faith's role in this mad scheme was, she hoped that she was alright. She'd never met this Darius guy, but if what Giles and Constantine said about the vamps that the King sired was true, then Faith was walking on thin ice.

_But then again, we're all kinda walking into a death-trap here. Willow and Xander better be alright, unless he wants to meet the hard end of a Slayer._

She gave a small cringe at that internal thought.

_Okay… ew! I'm so glad that I didn't say that out loud._

A rustle from the leaves behind her brought her back to reality as she saw a shadow dash across her line of sight. Her stake at the ready, she readied herself into a defensive stance. Buffy soon recalled what Constantine had told her about what he knew about the King's breed.

_"…_ _They're not like the half-demon blighters you two are used to, but they don't follow the typical tropes of pop culture either." He said, opening up his carpetbag and handing her an ampule of holy water. "There are a few sources who mention the arrival of a thick mist right before the King appears. Some legends describe the appearance of a wolf. Best to keep on the lookout for both, eh?"_

_Buffy nodded, absorbing as much information as she could from the occultist before his objectively insane plan with more missing pieces than she'd usually be comfortable with was implemented._

_"_ _Right, so what do I do if I run into one of them? I mean, they can't be staked…"_

_"_ _Just run away, avoid them." He tossed her another stake, extra sharp just in case. "Slay anything that comes your way, be it a vampire or a demon, but do not try and confront any of the King's men. Faith and I will handle those rat-bastards. Savy?"_

_She gave a slight nod, understanding his point, yet reluctant to go through with the mage's "strategy"._

_"_ _What… that's it?" Faith asked hesitantly. "That's your plan?"_

Trying to focus her eyes on the manifold shadows that lay strewn and scattered among the bushes and graves, she spotted what looked like the outline of a wolf.

* * *

Faith struggled to speak, the grip on her neck squeezing the breath out of her.

"Oh, dear me." Darius continued with mock care. "Where are my manners?"

His grip loosened up as his hand snaked its way up slowly to the base of her head just under her chin. Her throat no longer constricted she took a deep breath, the air immediately returning to her lungs. She gave Darius a hard stare, as if she was shooting daggers into his face.

"Now, then, I don't think you and I have had a chance to have a proper chat, luv."

Squeezing her chin in his hand he lowered her don to the ground and forced her to look up at him.

"Yeah? And what's there to talk about, pal?" She spat back at him. "How you wanna wrap me up nice and tight, a little bow on top as a present to your boss?"

"You know Faith," He brought her face close to her, taking in her scent, "you can be quite inelegant. You're taking center stage in the biggest piece of theater since that garden they call 'Eden'. Someone as beautiful as you really ought to have… standards."

He spun her around, twisting her arm back. She stifled her gasp of pain, refusing to let any sign of weakness show.

"Well as shitty as my life is, I'm better off as I am if you're the 'higher standard'."

"Why so cynical, luv?" His mouth was getting dangerously close to her neck. "It's not hard to tell that you like affiliating with dangerous creatures."

She could feel his breath against cheek as he moved upward toward her ear. "You know what they say, 'find a job you love' and all that crap."

"Perhaps." Faith really started to get nervous as she felt his hand start to snake down her torso, the pinch of his finger nail against the skin of her waist. "But if that's the case, why so resistant to me?"

"Hmmm, let me guess. Killer? Torturer? Asshole with a pony-tail?" She shot back, defying her growing fear. _I mean, come on that pony-tail is a_ _ **stupid**_ _look._

"Oh? And yet…" His hand snaked down to the hem of her jeans, as he spoke directly into her ear. "… you dare to trust the Constantine?"

There was something about that question, the way he worded it, how he was saying it, the context by which she was receiving it, that brought her back to life. It was like a shot of pure adrenaline to her mind, the swell of frustrations, confusions, unsettlement, all of it about John Frickin' Constantine. She grabbed her hand, instantly rupturing the tense atmosphere of fear he had created, and with a scream, threw him over her shoulder.

She landed a good kick to Darius's face before she landed on top of him, and started delivering a series of punches down upon him.

_You!_

_Cannot!_

_Fucking!_

_Touch Me!_

At some point during this outpouring of anger, she saw only for a fleeting moment John's face in place of Darius. And still, she kept delivering blow after bloody blow.

Her beatdown only slowed when she realized that he seemed to be laughing. He was laughing at her again, just like that night at the motel. He licked his lips, his face coated with his own blood, breaking into spurts of uneven laughter, as Faith eventually stopped.

"Do you feel it, luv? The fire rising in your veins as you don the mask and let it take you over?"

She paused and stared at her bloody fist, unable to move. _Why the hell am I stopping? This is what I do. This is who I am!_

Her whole body fell forward as Darius regained his strength and tossed her over him. Getting up from the ground, Faith was able to land a few more extra blows on him, but they all seemed to have no effect. Something else in him seemed to change too. A fire in eyes, burning him from the inside, obsession turning into addiction.

"Do you know what I think?" He grabbed her fist as it flew toward his face. "I think, you enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Just like me."

Faith, her one hand trapped in his grip, tried to opt for a roundhouse kick but the minute her leg made contact with his side, he grabbed her leg and spun her around, tossing her against a headstone.

"The difference," He continued, wiping the dirt from his jacket, "is that you've yet to hit that high point. The point where joyful thrill becomes hedonistic addiction."

She propped herself up, getting out a stake, knowing that it wouldn't have an effect, but might bide her some time.

"But one day, that high that you're so used to enjoying will get someone killed." He side-stepped every swing and stab that she made. "Someone who wasn't meant to be killed. And _when_ that happens, you'll realize that you've given yourself over completely to your role. _The Slayer."_

He lashed out a sudden kick to her legs, knocking her on her back. But this time before she could get back up, he landed on top of her, straddling her, one hand pinning back both of hers. She tried to resist, to throw him off her, to get out from under him, anything to get away.

"Maybe I ought to you break you in first." He brought his free hand up to her face, his finger tracing the outline of her lips. "His Majesty does despise such… bravado in his gifts."

Faith's eyes widened. She expected that the pervy cunt would try something, but she never thought that it would get this far.

_It ain't a mind game this time, Lehane. It's the real deal._

For the first time in a long time, she didn't know what to do.

* * *

He was halfway through with his cigarette when he heard the rustle of leaves in the far-off distance. He could hear the faint sounds of combat echoing throughout the cemetery. _Probably Ms. Summers, I reckon._

He lit up his third cigarette of the night and checked his watch. It read 11:57 p.m., three minutes to midnight. If he wasn't worried before, he sure as hell was now. Faith was supposed to be here at least five minutes before. He could tell that she wasn't one for following a set plan, but he suspected that she was in some kind of trouble.

_Ah, who am are you trying to kid? Given my kind of luck, she probably is._

He checked the surrounding area one last time, before he decided to start now. He knew that it the invocation might not be as strong given that it was yet to be midnight, but it was better to risk it. After all, he knew what was at stake and it might be his best chance at weeding the King out of Sunnydale once and for all, two birds with one stone and all that.

He tossed his cigarette away, got out the dried tree root, and placed it in the midpoint of all the graves that he'd carved the sigils on.

_Time to call in an old friend from the bayou._

He sent a single message on his pager to Buffy's friends.

_I hope the soggy-bog bastard isn't too busy._

* * *

Buffy stared down the wolf, the black of its hide shining against the moonlight, its reflection illuminating against the rest of the night. She knew that this was one of the King's breed, and for a moment her feet were frozen in the ground. She knew that she had to do something, before her inner fight-or-flight instinct eventually settled itself.

_Run._

Buffy instantly sped off and ran back toward the center marker, the statue of the archangel. From behind her she could hear the soft patting of limber paws against soft grass. It was following her, and she didn't know how long she could outrun it.

She could tell from her surroundings that she was approaching the angel statue, familiar territory encroaching upon her. Thinking fast, she made a sharp turn into a clearing just as she felt the sharp pierce of paws into her back.

Buffy toppled over along with the wolf, a tangle of blonde hair, leather, and gray fur shooting through the air and then rolling into a clearing. The real shock came when Buffy felt herself colliding into another person.

Untangling herself from the mess of limbs, she got up and landed a swift kick to the wolf's head knocking it out. She turned to see what she had collided into, and was greeted with the sight of a man with a bloody face, unconscious on the ground.

"Buffy!" A familiar voice called out to her. She turned and saw Faith, sprawled out on the ground, looking back at her in surprise.

"Faith!" She ran over to her fellow Slayer, helping her up. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"Y-Yeah. I'm alright, now." She tried to cover up the look of fear that, unbeknownst to Buffy, had been on her face. "He… uh… he almost had me for a second there. Thanks for the save, B."

"No problem, but we should get back to Constantine now."

"Yeah…"

They both turned and started to run, making their way closer to the rendezvous point. They were just in sight of the angel statue before a woman with long black hair stepped in front of them. Buffy recognized her as the same one that she and Xander ran into the other night.

"Now, where are you going? We've only just started?"

Faith and Buffy could faintly see a twinge of red in the center of her pupils. They both knew instantly that she wasn't a human. She must have noted their surprise.

"Oh, dear." She laughed softly. "The penny's just dropped, eh? Hm. You two can call me Mary."

Without warning, Faith lunged forward swinging a punch at her only for it to be caught in Mary's grasp. She twisted Faith's arm back until she was kneeling on the ground, close to writhing in pain.

"You have no sense of etiquette, do you?" She leaned down and sniffed Faith's hair. "I can see why Darius is quite _taken_ by you."

Her actions were halted by a swift kick to the right side of her temple. Buffy landing back on her feet, she grabbed Faith's arm and helped her back up.

"Ah, yes. Buffy Anne Summers." Mary wiped a smear of blood from her lip. "I was wondering when I'd get to see you in action."

"Well, here's your chance to partake." Buffy knew that her chances weren't that great, but she needed to bide their time.

Faith, making a quick recovery, got into her own fighting stance next to Buffy. She could tell that they weren't too far off from the spot where she was supposed to lure Darius in. _B and I can take her. We don't need to beat her, just lure her in hook-line-and-sinker back to the statue._

"Two against one? That's hardly fair now, is it?" Her devilish smile giving undertones of her deeper strength.

"Oh, Mary, my dear." A voice from behind them interrupted the three ladies. "If it's sportsmanship you're worried about, I'd say we're the ones playing unfairly."

Darius slowly walked out from the bushes, a small red glow to his pupils as well. But that wasn't what had the two young Slayers on edge. From behind Darius, a series of various shadow figures emerged from the bushes to reveal more of the slave-soldier vamps. They were accompanied by what appeared to be moving shadows, only to reveal themselves as wraiths. And in an instant, a whole series of red dots seemed to appear from the bushes, the faint light illuminating the graveyard. They realize that it was eyes, the same glow that was in the eyes of Darius and Mary.

"Now, then." Darius stalked forward hauntingly, seeming to embody the spirit of immorality. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

Willow was being fueled by pure adrenaline as she and Xander got into position, both of their hands outstretched as she turned the book to the right page. The message from Constantine caught them off guard despite them fully expecting it to come. Despite their surprise and worry, they were steadfast. She trusted Constantine's judgement and that seemed to be enough to ease any worry that Xander had. And besides, this would help to end the reign of terror that had been cast over Sunnydale for the past few weeks.

_I mean, it's only an invocation to the spirits of nature. What's the worst that could happen?_

Looking up at Xander, she gave a quick nod to let him know that she was ready. Returning the gesture, she took a deep breath as she and Xander began reciting the spell.

_We invoke you, oh great guardians of nature_

_Oh, mighty Parliament of the Trees_

_That you may rise and defend that which you have given life,_

_Send your holy champion of the Green_

_To where the divine axis lies!_

The sigil started to glow, and a few miles away in Sunnydale Graveyard, John Constantine was preparing to call on an old friend.

* * *

When the sigils had lighted up, he knew that it was time. Placing the root in the center of the triad of sigils, he added the finishing touch. Getting out his knife, he made a small cut on his hand, and squeezed his own blood onto the root, a sacrifice to the Green.

In an instant, the mark on the root lit up into a bright red. The root grew and stretched into the glowing sigils that symbolized the mark of the Plant Elementals, and the light seemed to stretch toward the angel statue where he hoped Faith was at.

_She's gonna be fine. Because if she isn't, then we're all buggered._

He quickly got up and followed the growing root.

* * *

Buffy and Faith were surrounded. They both had their stakes out and they were just waiting for that final charge that would sweep the two of them away. With the angel statue in sight, their last hope was that they were close enough to it that Constantine's spell would still have some effect. Because if not, then they were as good as dead.

Out of nowhere, Faith felt a stinging pain on her chest, as if someone had just pressed a hot, tiny, fire stoker on her breast. She quickly found the source of it, the Chi-Ro pendant that John had given her for protection. It seemed to be glowing with a bright fluorescent light. Bright enough that Darius and Mary and their horde of the undead were taken aback it.

Buffy turned to her fellow Slayer and saw that what was happening, her face contorting into confusion just as Faith's. Realization soon struck both of them. _This is it._

The sound of wood cracking seemed to bring everyone out of confusion. From under the angel statue, a long series of roots seemed to shake up the foundation of the earth. It was as if something was headed toward them.

Dirt and stone seemed to rise from the ground as the roots drew closer, and closer, and closer, until it seemed to stop just in front of where Mary stood.

The two Slayers could only frown in disappointment, wondering what had happened. Buffy shook her head. _Well, that was anti-climactic._

_SNAP!_

In an instant Mary was flying over their heads before landing behind Darius. Before Buffy and Faith could register what had happened they were greeted with the sight of something growing out from where the trail of roots had ended.

Something large.

Something big.

Something _green._

Backing slowly away from the large pile of plant matter that had appeared to have saved their lives, they felt a hand on each of their arms. Turning, both Slayers ready to strike, they were greeted with John Constantine's hard-scrabble form. He pressed a finger to his lips before either of them could say anything, a million questions already swirling around in both of their heads. A deep, dark, guttural voice pierced the shocked silence.

_"_ _Who_ _**dares** _ _to threaten the Green?"_

The large blob of plants and vines had suddenly grown into a sort of upright shape, like that of a monster. One could recognize the shape of arms and legs and what appeared to be a face. Bright red eyes, not like the pupils of Darius and Mary but **full** red eyes, popped out and stared at the horde of vampires before it.

Darius and Mary's faces were as shocked as Buffy and Faith's as they were confronted with the creature. They had heard tales about the Elementals from the King, and they had even met one or two before arriving on the Hellmouth, but this was the first time they had confronted a _plant_ elemental.

Constantine merely smiled at everyone's collective surprise, before grabbing Buffy and Faith and dragging them out of sight.

"I'd forgotten how much the green bastard loves to make an entrance." He whispered to the two Slayers.

_Somethings just never change. Nice seeing you again, Swamp Thing._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. That's right, Swamp Thing. I couldn't resist.
> 
> For those who aren't aware, John Constantine made his first appearance in the Swamp Thing comics, issue #37 titled "Growth Patterns". So, I thought it would be a nice homage to Constantine's origins.


	22. Knock on Wood

**Chapter 21: Knock on Wood**

Since he'd appeared on the Hellmouth, Faith noted, the recurring theme of the past few days had been "unexpected". Everything from his crass attitude, to his knowledge of the occult, to the way he seemed to solve this case quicker than the whole Sunnydale crew combined, to him just guessing her own last name seemed to provide an endless litany of surprise for her. So much so, that this new addition to the list of Constantine's quirky aspects only surprised her for a second before she accepted it.

_Of course. Of course, the smarmy dick would summon a massive, green vegetable monster to beat down some uber-vamps._

As she hid behind the angel statue with Buffy and John, she tried to steady herself from the tidal wave of thoughts and emotions coursing through her head.

"You two alright?" John asked, catching his breath.

"Yeah, we're fine." Buffy replied, having managed to collect her thoughts. "Faith?"

"Yeah, B. I'm alright." Faith got out, calming herself down a notch. "Looks like your plan worked, English. Thanks for the quick save."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, luv. Alec and I have something of a… history."

The two Slayers only looked back at him in confusion, which at this point they figured was probably the norm for associating with him. _Alec? Who the hell is Alec?_ But before either of them could demand a form of explanation from the mage, something not unlike the sound of a splintering tree shattered the silence.

Peering from behind the statue, the three of them were greeted with the sight of a cacophonous battle, with the monster that Constantine had summoned swatting away vampires left and right. From its right hand, the soft vegetable matter that the monster seemed to be made of, a large wooden trunk with branches grew out and was being used to swat, swipe, and impale the susceptible half-demon vamps, nearly half of their numbers already turned into dust.

Smiling at the fruits of his labor, Constantine turned back to Buffy and Faith. "Come on then, ladies. Don't worry about those blood-sucking tossers. My mate's got those pricks handled."

"So where _are_ we going?" Buffy asked, having reached the conclusion that it was better to just go along with everything.

"Into the lion's den." He said before handing the two Slayers their stakes, neither of which they realized that they had dropped. "Hopefully we're not too late - knock on wood."

"Too late?" Buffy asked. "Too late for what?"

* * *

_I am in… a swamp. A swamp in… Louisiana. Home._

_I am with Abigail. She nestles into me… as we watch… the stars._

_I hear a voice call out to me… from the Green._

_The Parliament of the Trees._

_"_ _I am… being summoned."_

"What now?" _Worry and disappointment are echoed in her words._ "Do you have to go?"

_"_ _Yes. The Parliament of the Trees… are calling to me."_

_I stand up… with her hand in mine. I look deep into her eyes._

_"_ _Abby… I must go. I shall return… as soon as I can."_

_Her sorrow is replaced with comfort. She smiles softly at me. She presses a kiss to my cheek._

"Don't take too long, this time. Okay Alec?"

_"_ _I promise."_

_My body shifts and ebbs and flows. My mind travels the lengths of the Earth. It is a familiar journey._

_I arrive in Brazil… at the source of the Tefé River._

_The Parliament informs me… of a summons… a beckoning to them… a plea… to the Guardian of the Green._

_This news… troubles me. Very few know how to call upon… an elemental. They tell me… where I am to go._

_California… a town that is built upon a gateway to the underworld…_

_Sunnydale._

* * *

Darius stared down the amalgamated monstrosity of vines, leaves, moss, and various vegetation with anger and spite. He despised interruptions. Hecklers, bystanders, unforeseen interventions, reconsiderations, he hated when the universe would find a way to interfere with his affairs. The first interruption being the other half of the vampire slaying duo that they had been meant to only keep tabs on. The next came in the form of the unexpected plant elemental. Tonight's hunt was unraveling itself to be less than fortuitous.

_I had her right in my crosshairs and now she's gone._

The collision of one of the half-breeds against him brought him back to the sobering reality of the situation. The creature who had introduced himself as the current avatar of the Green had made himself known and charged at the legion of vamps without any warning. The creature's guttural voice spoke up amidst the dust and chaos.

_"_ _It is useless to… resist. I have faced… your kind… before."_

Darius runs forward, charging at the beast with all his strength. The Elemental sees him running toward him. It places its hands into the ground. A monstrous tentacle-like root emerges from beneath and swipes him out of the way. The root turns to the half-breeds and lunges forward, impaling thirteen all at once, each of them disappearing into a cloud of dust.

Anger surged through him as he watched his comrades begin their charge, ripping and tearing and punching and beating the sentient growth of vegetation that had disrupted their hunt. He suspected he knew what had drawn the Elemental toward Sunnydale. There had been rumors milling about a few years ago during the Crisis. Rumors about a great entity rising from the confines of the cracks between worlds. Rumors about an ancient and terrible darkness that threatened to destroy all of Creation and set the world anew. And how the newest Champion of the Green had managed to defeat it.

Darius got back up to his feet and shook his head angrily as he came to multiple realizations all at once. He cannot negotiate with the creature. He cannot defeat it. He cannot turn it.

_Constant interferences indeed._

* * *

It didn't take long for him to find the spot where he thought he spotted a glint of metal from earlier. Leaning over next to one of the graves he saw, buried in the patch of grass, a small metal crucifix.

"Jackpot."

Picking the cross up from the ground, he proceeded to rummage through his coat pocket. The two Slayers from behind him took note of what he'd just picked up and only exchanged a look of confusion as he proceeded to remove his pack of cigarettes and a length of string from his pocket.

"Uh… care to explain to the Muggles what you're doing?" Buffy piped up from behind him.

"A little bit of divination." He said as he tied the string around the carton of Silk Cuts. "Magic always comes with a price."

"And that price is a pack of crappy smokes?" Faith scoffed as she watched him pierce the small carton with the crucifix.

"A pack of crappy _English_ smokes that this backwater small town hellhole seems to haven't a bloody clue about considering how I had to buy it from a local bartender." He retorted as he held up the carton on a string.

"So how is this going to help us find the King?" Buffy asked, anxious to learn what else Constantine had up his sleeve.

"Like I said, Ms. Summers. Divination. Albeit on a slightly smaller scale." He stood up straight and closed his eyes as he began speaking an incantation that sounded like complete babble to Buffy and Faith.

As he finished the incantation, the makeshift divination rod began to sway slightly as if it were swaying in the autumn breeze.

"Round and round and round she goes. Where she stops – "

The rod shot up in a horizontal direction, pointing toward a less hilly area of the graveyard before settling on a fixed direction. "Seems to have made up its mind."

He turned to the two Slayers with his usual auspicious grin and with a nod of his head beckoned them to follow.

* * *

_There are… spirits in this place. And these creatures… are resistant._

_I have met… their kind… before. A memory beckons… to me._

_A single name… Rosewood._

_My mind sees… the tunnels… the corruptions… that these creatures have done… to the Earth._

_There is a darkness… in this part of the Earth. I can feel the blood… soaked onto the vegetation… in the soil. I know… these creatures._

_Vampires…_

_"_ _You cannot threaten the Green." My voice is filled with rage. The pestilent beasts charge at me._

_From my hands… I grow the weapons… of their… destruction._

_Like rockets they shoot up… into the sky… into their chests. A splinter of wood… piercing their hearts._

_Dust rains down like my faintest memories of snow._

_I am… winning… but a question… seeps into my mind._

**_Who summoned me here?_ **

* * *

Mary regained her footing as she watched the Elemental subdue the last of the half-breeds, a cloud of dust coating the creature like blood. The wraiths had managed to hold their own, trying to pierce the body of the creature, seeing if they could cast out the human body that was connected to the Elemental. The creature lashed out even more as the maelstrom of wraiths seemed to pass into its body, the ghostly specters tearing apart the vegetation from within.

Shaking its head, the Elemental clutched at its head, crying out in pain. From all parts of the creature's body, a series of vines and roots shot out into the ground forcing the creature down onto its knees. Having appeared to be defeated, the vampires gathered slowly around the creature who was still writhing under the entanglement of leaves and vines.

Mary raised her hands in a gesture of understanding, trying to get the Elemental's attention.

"We are not your enemy."

The creature turned to her, its red eyes piercing through her in judgement.

_"_ _And yet, your actions threaten the Earth."_

"We do not _threaten_ the Earth." Mary proffered in response to the creature's accusations. "We feed off it. Our reverence for this world is the same as that of your kind."

_"_ _I know what you are. You are parasites feeding off man, hollowing the Earth. I have encountered your kind before."_

"Then you should have known that our kind are not so easily beaten."

_"_ _There is evil in this land. And I can tell that you are symptoms of it."_

"There's just no negotiating with some people is there?" Darius spoke up from behind Mary.

_"_ _Negotiation?"_

"Our kingdom has no ill wishes against the Green. We have no reason to fight you, so why do you attack our kind?"

_"_ _I was sent here. The Parliament of Trees received a plea of help originating from this town. I felt the evil laying underneath."_

Darius gave a small grin at this response. _Perhaps I can… persuade him to join us._

"I think I know who sent out that little cry for help." He stepped forward toward the Elemental, before kneeling in front of him. "I can perhaps tell you, that is if you're willing to form an alliance with our kingdom."

The creature gave a small nod before demanding, _"Who. Summoned. Me?"_

With a crooked smile, Darius leaned forward and whispered to him a single name.

There was a moment where the creature remained still, not writhing, not resisting, just lying frozen on the ground. Its face seemed to be processing the information that the one word elicited as it seemed to transition back and forth between anger and confusion. This war of emotions settled on a victor as the Elemental's green brows seemed to fold in rage.

With a scream that echoed throughout the town, it shot up out from the ground, tearing out the vines that were holding it down. It shook back and forth, expelling the wraiths from its body of vegetation, each spirit dissipating as they were cast out of the Elemental's body. With each wraith expelled and dispirited, the psychic connection to the vampires that held it to this plane severed and each vamp seemed to cry out in pain.

Darius and Mary were both unprepared for this sudden turn of events as they clutched at their heads, feeling the psychic pulses echoing in their brains due to the release of their wraiths from this plane.

The Plant Elemental's bright red eyes flashed with rage as it screamed into the night.

_"_ _**CONSTANTINE!** _ _"_

* * *

"Bollocks!" John cried out as his makeshift divining rod had seemed to suddenly go limp, just as it appeared to be really gathering strength.

"Come on, for fuck's sake. Don't get coy with me now!"

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration as Buffy and Faith caught up with him from behind. For a man who seemed to be continuously breaking their expectations as to the amount of cigarettes a single human being can possibly smoke at any one time, they were shocked at just how fast of a runner he was.

"What happened?" Buffy asked as she observed the look of exasperation on the mage's face.

"Haven't a fucking clue." He said holding the divination rod out in every direction as he tried to maintain his patience. "We're close, I know that much. The pull was strongest in this direction."

"So, your magic rod lost its mojo?" Faith teased as she leant back against one of the tombstones. "Don't feel too bad. A lot of guys have that problem."

He turned to Faith with a glare in his eyes. _Okay, now I draw the fucking line._

"Natural bloody comedian you are, luv." John stepped in front of her, face to face. "You know something _Faith?_ "

"Enlighten me, _John._ " She crossed her arms at him.

"You're really starting to piss me off."

"Only starting? Looks like I still have to catch up to you Johnny-boy, because the feeling's more than mutual."

"You know as much as it may shock you, I am actually trying to be a team-player."

"A 'team-player'? You walk into town acting like you own the place, you waited until the eleventh hour to tell us about your 'plan', and we've only met you _three days ago._ "

"Hey, I asked politely for your cooperation. I said that I wouldn't put you off your methods if you were willing to work with mine. And have I?"

"No," She begrudgingly admitted, "but since I've met you, I've not only found out that some vamp king wants to make my town his new Camelot, but also one of his pervy interns wants me to be his little present to his boss. So, I'm sorry if I'm hesitant to continue doing things your way."

"And here we are again, this bloody back and forth. I thought you trusted me?"

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear enough the other day. My trust isn't something for you to use as bait, English."

"Oh, so is that what this is about then?"

_Yes? No? I don't know how you're messing with my fucking head, but I know it's you._ She was really considering punching him now.

"Look," He took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm really trying my hardest not to be a cunt here. And that's saying something. So, whatever I'm doing that's somehow pissing you off, I'll put on hold until this omnishambles is all patched up."

He took a step forward and looked straight into her eyes. "Is that agreeable with you?"

Faith was fuming at this point. That strange feeling that always seemed prescient around him had somehow grew in strength as if it was focusing all its energy on her. She realized she had yet to say anything as she noted that John was still waiting for her response.

"There's something off about you." She said softly, John barely picking up what she said.

"Something's off about me? That's not exactly a first, so you'll have to be more specific, luv."

"Don't call me that!" She exploded at him. "God, I don't know what the hell it is, but yeah, something about you just doesn't feel right. You're giving off the most effed-up vibes I've ever felt from anyone. It's something in my spine or in my head telling me – no, _screaming_ at me – that you're supposed to be something that I ought to drive my stake into until blood's spewing out of your mouth! And it's not just me, B feels it too. She told me that it's like you're some kind of weird, half-good, half-evil weirdo from across the pond, and it's freaking me out! Yeah, I said it. _It's. Freaking. Me. Out._ So, tell me this _John Constantine_ , just what the hell are you!?"

Buffy who had been watching the exchange felt more than a bit uncomfortable at that sudden outburst from her fellow Slayer, but she had to admit she was curious. She wondered if this would finally get the trench-coated Brit to cough up why he's so… him. _Although, she could've toned down the freak-out just a bit._

As for Constantine, he had remained neutral throughout the whole outburst, only showing a flicker of a flinch when Faith started her explosive tirade. He took one more step toward Faith, his locked onto hers.

"My blood."

Faith blinked absently at that response, not really knowing what to make of it. "Your… blood?"

"Yes. My blood." His voice was even and serious this time. "A couple of years ago I made a deal with a demon. Now, what that deal was for is none of your sodding business, but my end of the bargain was to prevent an overzealous Christian cult from organizing the conception of a new Messiah. To do so, said demon transplanted his blood into my body so that I could 'taint' the chosen Virgin Mother with my demonically infected spunk."

Buffy and Faith could only look at him with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and skepticism as he recounted his unbelievable story.

"Now, that's my guess as to why my presence seems to unsettle you and Ms. Summers. I can't say for certain." He continued on unabashedly. "So, if that seems to set you off, then I whole-heartedly apologize. To the both of you."

He took one more step closer to her, more than she felt comfortable with in light of how direct he was being right now.

"And as for what I am, well… I'm just John Constantine. Nothing more. Nothing less."

She noted that his blue eyes seemed to somehow burn with an unsettling honesty to them.

"Is that acceptable, _Faith Lehane?_ "

Faith stared him down as he finished his long-winded explanation. She hated this. She liked it more when he was just an unsettling blonde blob of dickishness and cigarette smoke all wrapped up in a tight suit and a trench coat. Not that he stopped being so, but he was being honest now too. She could tell, and that was what freaked her out the most. She always wanted people to be honest with her, deep down, even if she wouldn't admit it. But this was the first time where she wanted someone to lie to her. Honesty seemed to make him more unsettling.

Because she knew there was something else there. Something he didn't seem to know about. She didn't know how she knew, but she could just feel it.

"Five by five," She uncrossed her arms and stepped forward challenging his proximity before whispering, "Constantine."

John neither wavering, nor retreating from his position, gave her a slight tilt of his head. She might've been a considerable pain in the arse, but he wasn't exactly too put off by the fact that they were once again in such close proximity of each other.

_Okay_ , _now this is… unsettling,_ Buffy thought awkwardly as her presence was largely forgotten by the other two. _Have I missed out on some creepy foreplay developing between these two?_

Faith was trying to recollect herself now. Amidst the drama of being bait for some vamp-perv, almost being used and abused by him, coupled with confusing swell of feelings that Constantine made her feel, she needed to keep her nerves together if they were going to face the King. It was only now that she realized just how close she was to the self-proclaimed exorcist.

And how both seemed to be holding their ground. They would both be lying to themselves if they didn't admit in their minds, that this particular fiery exchange brought up more than a few… intimate feelings. It had been a while, for both of them, after all.

A cough from Buffy brought them out of their self-contained world of arguments. Turning to the blonde Slayer, who they had forgotten was with them and probably witnessed the entirety of their exchange, they looked down to where she was beckoning.

In Constantine's hand, the divining rod was up and erect, directing itself toward a dark stone mausoleum just behind where Faith stood.

"Huh." Faith was the first of the three of them to speak up. "Is that a divining rod in your hand, or are you just pleased to see me?"

John stepped aside her, walking slowly toward the mausoleum and felt the tug of his makeshift divination rod grow in strength. He turned to the two young women with that unholy spark in his eye.

_Bingo._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my portrayal of Swamp Thing isn't too melodramatic. But given that a trashlord in a trenchcoat summoned him away from his girl, I suppose he has a reason to be melodramatic. 
> 
> And speaking of Constantine, we finally get to see why Buffy and Faith are getting weird vibes from him. Or do we?


	23. Now, Not Tomorrow

**Chapter 22: Now, Not Tomorrow**

It's common knowledge that one's luck is shaped by the type of lives they live and how the universe responds to the choices made by that life. Ideas, feelings, choices all influence the outcome of one's own fortune. And such a thing makes the matter of luck a very fickle thing. For instance, how luck managed to take Buffy Summers from a mundane high school life to crawling about a musty, old mausoleum in the search of a vampire king was very fickle. The same could be said about how luck managed to get Faith Lehane from the mean streets of South Boston to some creepy house of the dead in beautiful "SoCal-as-Hell". However, the same cannot be said about how John Constantine ended up being Britain's greatest con-artist to bumming about with two teenage vampire slayers. If you asked him, he'd say his luck wasn't so much "fickle" as much as it was "disastrous", which should be ironic given the special nature of his bloodline. But it really wasn't and for the exact same reason.

And it was exactly because of what they found in the mausoleum that led John Constantine to believe in such a thing. Hanging from the stone-carved edifice of the mausoleum wall, a completely dehydrated human body was nailed onto the relief of a crucifix. Two noticeable gashes were lined across his body, one over his chest and the other at the base of his neck.

"If I had to take a guess," John spoke up, over the horrified expressions of the two slayers, "this would be the entrance to the King's lair."

"Wow, really?" Faith asked sarcastically. "And you're supposed to be some impressive occult detective?"

"I am actually. A 'Sherlock Holmes of the Occult' even." He retorted with her premature description of his occupation. "Isn't that right, luv?"

She returned his snark with a borderline murderous look. Despite his clarification of what he thought made her Slayer sense go into in freak-out mode, she felt that there was more. Something else behind the air of English smugness and cheap cigarette smoke said that there was more to him and maybe even he didn't know it. Whatever it was, it still managed to piss her off.

_And no, my eye is sure as hell not twitching._

"Hey."

They both turned to Buffy who was hovering over the center grave with her hands crossed.

"If you two are quite finished, I think I may have found something." She said irately, starting to tire of the near-explosive banter between Faith and Constantine.

Walking over to the grave, John peered at the tomb noticing how the cover had a few chisel marks underneath. Placing his hand near where the cover and the coffin met, he noticed that there was a slight breeze coming from inside.

"If my memory serves me better than my luck, wasn't Sunnydale built over the ruins of a Spanish settlement?"

"That's right." Buffy replied, not knowing what to make about the statement about his luck. "There's a whole network of tunnels where the old town used to be."

"Ladies, I think we've just found our good king's lair." Immediately discarding his divining rod, he prepared to lift the stone cover when he remembered who he was with. Turning to the two girls, he gave a quick nod of the head. "Would you mind?"

Buffy and Faith both rolled their eyes at him before they both shoved the Brit aside and removed the lid of the stone coffin with ease.

_Thank God for Slayer strength._

The breeze coming from inside the coffin had picked up as the trio peered inside to see the entrance to Sunnydale's underground tunnel system.

"Well, come on", Faith asked. She hauled herself up onto the edge of the coffin, surprising Buffy and John, to a lesser extent. "What are we waiting for?"

"A decent plan, I'd imagine." John responded rather absent-mindedly as he peered into the dark tunnel. "May I remind you that we haven't a bloody clue on how to slay the king."

"So, what?" The adrenaline was noticeable in her voice. "The way you've been going at this, I'd say you've just been making things up as you go."

John didn't respond, but just gave her a look that only a tired, grumpy Englishman could give. Seeing how she'd managed to press just the right buttons she gave a small laugh at his lack of response and jumped in.

_Strewth! And I thought I was a pain in the arse to deal with._

Sighing he hauled himself up and readied to jump in. Turning back to the more cautious blonde, he held out his hand.

"Come on then, Alice. Down the rabbit hole you go."

* * *

Not really knowing the full extent of the English exorcist's, Willow and Xander sat at the roof of Sunnydale General perusing through the book that Constantine had given them.

"Do you think they're alright?" Willow asked, not really knowing what to do now that their part of the plan was done.

"I'm sure of it." Xander replied. "Besides, 'Mr. Petty Dabbler' back there may not be the most trustworthy, but I'm sure that Buffy and Faith can handle some stringy Brit."

"Yeah, yeah. You have a good point." Willow said, picking at her fingers slightly.

Awkwardness wasn't exactly new to the life-long best friends, but their mutual friend's desire to keep them safe and far away from the threat of a new species of vampire left them to face the inevitable. Willow knew that despite the both of them dating other people, she still held the seeds of her crush on Xander in her heart. She did care about him and she knew that he cared very much about her, but more than a few times the line between friendship and something more seemed to blur.

_And now is starting to feel like one of those times…_

"So, what do think we should do now?" She asked.

"Well, we could pack it up, call Cordy and Oz, and head to the Bronze." Xander suggested having sat down next to her, tired enough of his own worried pacing.

"Or…"

"Or…?" Xander knew her friend well enough to know where this was headed.

"Or… we could go and see if they need our help."

"Look, Will, I know that you want to help Buffy as much as you can. But maybe Buffy has the right idea. Maybe this "King of the Vampires" is too much for us to handle."

"All the more reason we should go and help her!" She exclaimed. "Besides I thought you wanted to help out with the slaying too?"

Xander tried to stutter out a response, hoping that the truth wouldn't slip out. It did anyway.

"Oh! I get it. You're just freaked out by Mr. Constantine, aren't you?"

"No… yes… maybe." _Am I seriously the only one who's openly freaked out by him?_ "Oh, come on Will! I know that you think he's more than a bit disturbing, personality aside."

"I'll admit that he's not exactly… a people person." She continued on despite Xander's poker face. "But that doesn't mean he's a bad guy."

"I'm not saying he is. I'm just not entirely sure it's a smart idea depending on his 'expertise'. Besides you heard what Giles said about him the other day about his methods."

"I know, I know." She had to admit that Xander had a fair point. "But if you're so worried about him, don't you think it would be better to go with Buffy and Faith just in case?"

Xander just stared into Willow's eyes, knowing full well that she'd already won. It was also at this point that he realized just how close they had hovered to each other. Pushing those thoughts down – _Cordy! Damnit I'm with Cordelia! –_ he gave a quick and nervous nod and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could say a word, he was interrupted by a clicking noise.

A clicking noise that wasn't all that different to the sound of a gun's safety being turned off.

* * *

The tunnels that inhabited the dark underground of Sunnydale where wider and more intricate than they had expected. Guided by the faint flicker of fire coming from his lighter, Constantine was more or less guiding their way through the passages of the King's lair. They had to ditch the divining rod on account of its trail ending at the skeletal corpse crucified in the tomb above. Without a plan, without a security, without a clue as to what to do, they all agreed to themselves that what they were doing was a bad idea. But they didn't dare to speak those insecurities out loud, mostly because of how deep they were in the mess they'd found themselves in.

"So, am I the only one here who's worried about our lack of a plan?" Buffy asked, her bravado fracturing slightly.

"Oh, come on B. You getting cold feet? Where's your sense of adventure?" Faith teased.

"Adventure? Faith, this isn't our usual patrolling. I mean, these vampires are basically Slayer-proof and we're flying in blind!" She chastised to the brunette.

"Aren't we always B? Besides, we don't know a thing about these uber-vamps. Think of this as an opportunity to finally find out how to finally dust one."

"That's assuming we're gonna win."

"How do you think I'm still up and kickin' B?" She halted and turned to Buffy. "Always assume that you're gonna win. Ain't that right, Conny?"

She gave a smirk to the two blondes behind her. Pushing past Constantine who huffed in annoyance at the antics of the two girls, she caught Faith by the arm.

"Are you listening to yourself right now Faith?"

"No, I'm listening to your consulting exorcist back there. And if what he says is true, then this may be our one shot at nailing these guys for good."

She started to move before Buffy caught her arm again. They'd both been down this path not too long ago, almost two months ago when Faith had first arrived in Sunnydale.

"Faith, are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath, she replied. "Five by five, B."

"Are you sure? Because you've been acting weird the entire day."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She responded, willing herself to stay calm.

"She's right you know." Constantine stepped up closer behind them, their faces barely illuminated by the flame of his lighter. "I can tell you've not been entirely yourself since we squared off with that prat."

"Prat? What prat?" Keen on filling in the missing blanks, she looked back and forth between Constantine and Faith. "What is he talking about?"

"That vamp that attacked us the other night, Darius." Faith responded hesitantly.

"Darius? Faith, what happened?" Buffy asked, her concern starting to become more than evident. _Some intense stuff must have gone down if this Darius guy can scare Faith._

"Nothing. Don't worry about it." She replied and stalked off down into the darkness.

"Faith…" Buffy started, but her fellow Slayer was already out of sight.

She felt helpless as she watched Faith slowly walk further down the tunnels. She turned to Constantine with a desperate look in her eye, as if somehow this madman held all the answers.

"Best that we not let her go too far on her own." He replied, knowing exactly what had unsettled the dark-haired spitfire. _Even if she doesn't want to admit it._

"Yeah." _Not much else we can do anyway._

They both hurried off into the darkness, making sure that Faith didn't go too far on her own.

"Also, did she seriously just call me _Conny_?"

* * *

_Life… vitality… calm…_

_These all exist within the confines of this town._

_But there is… something else._

_Perhaps… it is the false nature of it._

_The trappings of normality are… thinly veiled in this town._

_I can feel it in the echoes of my consciousness, tearing away at what was once Alec Holland._

_I can feel it permeating in the Green, the evil that exists atop this place, this… mouth of Hell._

_I can feel it as my mind traverses the underlying roots and vegetation in my search for the one who summoned me here._

_He is close._

* * *

"You know, I think I get you now."

The creak of his eyebrow barely visible in the darkness, John turned to Buffy in mild confusion.

"Oh, really? Care to help out the less fortunate?"

"You give off this impression that you're some powerful magician and bad-boy when in fact you really haven't got a clue what you're doing."

"Wow," John replied, heavy with sarcasm and nicotine withdrawal. _Only a little bit longer until I can have a smoke._

"Shocked that I managed to figure you out?" Buffy asked, a hint of levity in her voice as she tested Constantine's patience.

"Shocked that you've only just figured that out." His response coming hand in hand with his usual smug grin. _It took you long enough._

"So, idiotic charges into the unknown isn't unfamiliar to you then?" Faith interrupted, glad that the focus of this conversation wasn't on her.

"Nope, I'm just surprised that there's someone else out there who'd do the same stupid shite that I'd do."

"Are you calling me stupid?" She challenged, her voice daring him to judge her.

He gave a small laugh at her inclination, "Oh, don't flatter yourself, luv. You're not stupid. Only daft enough to be as daring as me… but not as impressive, though."

"You think you're so cool, don't you? All trench-coat, cigarette, and arrogance, but you're not as hot as you think."

"Really? So just how hot am I? And I'm asking for _your_ opinion."

"My _opinion_ is that at best, you're a mildly attractive dickhead."

"And at worst?"

"You're the most insufferable man on the face of the planet."

"Guys, is flirting really appropriate now?" Buffy interrupted, placing herself between the powder-keg of sexual tension erupting between the two. "Because I'm pretty sure we're in the middle of some high-level vampire hunting."

They each gave a huff and a nod, and despite the surrounding darkness Buffy would be hard-pressed to believe that they didn't just do that in sync. As they walked further into the tunnel, they noticed glimmers of illuminating coming from the area up ahead.

The damp, claustrophobic atmosphere began to open up as the exited the network of subterranean tunnels and found themselves in a chamber lit partly by the faint glimmers of hollow moonlight reflecting off of the surfaces of puddles of dirty water. The cavern looked almost like a church, trace outlines of crumbling walls and rotting roof tiles scattered throughout. At the center was a cobble of stones lying in front of the outline of what appeared to be a throne. And standing above lay the rotting remains of a crucifix, a common fixture in any church. But in this case, the face of Christ seemed deformed to the centuries of deterioration, dirt and mold.

"Looks like we've just found the King's digs." Buffy spoke as she gazed in a mixture of marvel and disgust at the surroundings.

And her disgust was justified as she stepped on something soft and sinewy. Looking down on her shoe she realized that she had trodden on the leftover remnants of a half a human hand. And as her eyes focused she realized that there were remnants of torn flesh scattered throughout the chamber. Jumping back a bit, she turned to Constantine and Faith who were both failing to suppress their horror and disgust.

"Right, enough gawking." John said, doing his best to control his gag reflex amidst the subtle carnage. "There should be a chamber here where they keep their farm."

"Farm?" Buffy shot a look of confusion to the now near frantic mage as he seemed to skim through each cavern opening, searching for something.

"Yes, a bloody farm. And I mean that quite literally." He replied as he peered into a tunnel and was suddenly thrown down on his back.

From the darkness, a vampire had run out, it's face a lumpy mess of familiarity that Faith was slightly comforted by as her instincts took over. Placing herself between John and the vampire, she got her stake out and went to work.

It didn't take long. A few punches to distract and from a blind-spot, a nasty little jab of her stake into his heart and all that was left was dust.

Brushing himself off as he stood back up, John gave her a look of appraisal and thanks. "Much appreciated, luv."

She gave the rumpled Brit a roll of the eyes as he picked up his lighter and reached a candlestick that was adorning the many tunnel entrances. He lit it the candle's wicker and passed it to Buffy as he continued explaining.

"Here, you and Faith head down that way and see if you can find the farm. You remember which tunnel leads to the surface, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Make sure they all get out. You lot don't need for the casualty list to go any higher than it already is."

"Wait, you mean this… farm… is like a… a… human farm?"

John remained silent but, the look in his eyes spoke volumes as he gave a small nod of his head. "Now, go! Quick as you like."

"Wait." Interrupted Faith, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to deal with the King." He responded as he grabbed a candle of his own.

"Are you fricking insane!" She burst out at him. "You've been going on and on about we shouldn't go off on our own with these freaks and now you just wanna have a chat with the bastard!?"

"Call me curious. A new breed of vampires? How can I possibly resist?" He replied, quite cheekily for a man about to walk into the throes of death. "Besides, one of us has to be the distraction."

Faith tensed noticing the seriousness in his eyes. There was something there, a genuine desire to play the hero, but there was something else. Some subtle spark in his eye that seemed to be rooted in comfort and belief in some nameless guiding force. Faith didn't know how, but she figured he had more up his sleeve.

"You really are brain-dead stupid, aren't you?"

He gave a small laugh before responding, "I'm John Constantine, luv. I do stupid in spades."

"You're not the only one, Johnny-boy." She replied in a near whisper. _God, I'm going to hate myself tomorrow for doing this…_

Before she leaned forward, grabbed his face, and crushed her lips onto his, quickly drawing back. It wasn't much, compared to what she usually dished out. Hell, it was a relatively tame kiss without the fervor or lust or bravado she usually gave. But there was enough in there that spoke volumes. It was an "emergency" kiss. It was a "good luck, you idiot" kiss. It was a "just-in-case-your-stupid-plan-goes-to-shit-and-I-never-see-you-again" kiss.

_Sure, he's annoying and the asshat is probably going to pull some stupid magic-y crap at the last minute, but better to have done it just in case._

The shock on Buffy's face at the display didn't measure up to even a fifth of the shock on Constantine's face. Eyes wide open, brows crooked up in surprise/confusion, mouth slightly open, he didn't respond. He could tell that Faith wasn't one to show affection so randomly or innocently. And given how sure he was that his name probably occupied the top of her list of known bastards, he couldn't help but be a bit surprised.

_Bloody 'ell…_

After what felt like an appropriate time to marvel Faith's actions had passed, he gave a small nod before lighting the candle and turning to the direction of one of the opposite tunnels. He turned around one last time before giving her a small grin before he wondered off down deeper into the chamber.

Faith just shook her head at his retreating form as she turned to Buffy who was still reeling somewhat from the rare display of affection that was shown.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Faith remarked evenly as she took the candlestick from Buffy's hand and stalked off into the tunnel. "Gotta get our rescue on, B."

Buffy just stared at Faith's vanishing silhouette for a moment before opening and closing her mouth a few times and turning to follow her. A few hours earlier, the Boston rebel and the English con-man were at each other's throats. After that... interesting... turn of events, she could only shake her head in exasperated confusion

_They're going to be the death of me._

* * *

_I arrive in the subterranean darkness._

_There is an evil here… something intangible, tugging at my connection to the Green._

_What could it be?_

_My thoughts drift as I find myself in a cave. There was life here once… more than just the Green._

_But now, the presence of death is staunch and permeating… I can feel it._

_The death… the decay… the Rot…_

_This must be where the creatures gather… it's lack of vitality is ever-present._

_I can feel a familiar tugging in my head… something of great power._

_Not the Hellmouth… but something conscious… alive._

_He must be close now…_

* * *

John Constantine was rarely caught off guard. Okay, maybe sometimes he was, but given his penchant for magic he had come to expect the unexpected from his line of work. But rarely was he caught off guard by people. He made it a habit to not be surprised by the actions and feelings of other people. So, when the spitfire of a Slayer that was Faith Lehane gave him the most out of the blue snog he'd ever been given, he would be a lying bastard to admit that he wasn't a bit shaken.

_But then again, I_ _**am** _ _a lying bastard._

Doing his best to bring his mind fully to the task at hand, he ran at a brisk pace down to the deeper levels of the tunnel into the darker chamber where stood a shimmering pool of water. His time spent with Zed gave him a glimpse into the various methods of clairtangancy and he knew that water was one of the easiest conduits for such precognitive abilities.

Pulling out his penknife, he made a small cut on his hand in an effort to draw out the king. He knew that with the ruckus that he sent Buffy and Faith to create topside would've drawn the attention of all the King's men. And they did, with the exception of the royal bloodsucker himself.

"Come on, then!" He cried out to the empty chamber. "What are you waiting for, you blood-sucking wanker?"

Silence, save for the echoing of his voice in the chamber.

"I know you know I'm here!" He shouted one more time.

Silence once more.

"Oh, come on you bastard! I just wanna have a little chin-wag."

And just as he finished crying out to the echoing cavern, he noticed the faint light glimmer slightly as he saw a shadow pass over one of the manifold tunnel entrances. Then what almost looked like a violent procession of strobe lights, a series of shadows flew over all the sources of light before settling into the faint twilight lighting of the cavern.

The only sound that could be heard was the dripping of water, or maybe it was his own blood. Either way, he hoped that his old friend had managed to either subdue or kill enough of the other vampires.

"Constantine." A voice rang out from the darkness.

_About time, you bladder of bile…_

Before he could finish his thoughts, he felt a hand on his shoulder forcing him to turn. Before he realized it, a fist collided with his face. Getting knocked back onto the floor, he could feel the blood start to run from his nose as his vision slowly readjusted to see the visage of a scarred and torn Darius towering over him.

"I believe you wanted to have words?" Darius replied in slowly-mounting anger. "So, shall we begin?"

Panting on the floor, wiping the blood from his maybe-broken nose, John found himself only capable of forming one coherent thought.

_Fuck._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I owe you an explanation. I've been busy with my art clients and that takes up a good chunk of my time. Coupled with the fact that I'm in the middle of moving apartments, writing hasn't been easy. Sorry about that. But things are more or less settled now, so that means things will definitely pick up.
> 
> Interesting dynamics going on here, and the end is almost in sight! I'm hoping to finish this fic around the end of the summer, so enjoy the ride!
> 
> Thank you for waiting! Sorry once again!
> 
> Please review! Any and all reviews are welcomed so long as they're kept civil.


	24. Everything Merges with the Night

**Chapter 23: Everything Merges with the Night**

"So…"

"So?"

There was something of an awkward atmosphere given what had happened earlier. For Buffy and Faith, life always somehow seemed to intertwine itself with their calling.

"So… you actually did it." Buffy continued, with more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah… you were there." Faith replied, hiding any and all signs of discomfort.

"So, I'm guessing that means you…"

"Not one line. Don't you dare." She replied, now slightly regretting her actions.

"Oh, come on Faith! It's not too much to admit that you like the guy." _The fact that he's… himself… may be something of a problem though._

"Look, can we talk about this later?"

It took Faith every fiber of her being to not land a pummeling down on Buffy. If she was being honest she really didn't know why she felt embarrassed. She couldn't deny that she hadn't wanted to do it. If she hadn't wanted to, she wouldn't have. And here she was, in some damp hole in the ground regretting her decision to kiss the mage.

"Alright, alright!" Buffy exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm just surprised, given how much you two seem to be at each other's throats."

"He's an asshole and he doesn't make sense, but that doesn't mean I can't play nice."

"A little _too nice_ , by the look of things." She muttered to herself. "And I thought I had guy problems."

"It was just a one-time thing, alright. The limey douche is probably gonna get himself killed with his idiotic plan to have some chit-chat with the King." She explained, defending her actions.

"So, it was like a goodbye kiss?"

"No! No…" She said, trying to even out her tone. "It's more of a… good luck… kiss."

"Right." Buffy responded, her tone giving away nothing of her opinion. "So, you don't think he's gonna make it out of there?"

"I doubt it."

"But you want him to make it out alive."

"I didn't say that." She replied with growing tension. "And I'm not saying that I want him _dead_. I kissed him because I wanted to, he was about to go do something suicidal, and it was my last chance to do it. I just wanted to know what it was like, that's all."

"Then why don't I believe you?"

Faith stalked off into the tunnels faster, the light from her candle bouncing and flickering with each step. With that one question, she was confronted with the whole swell of mounting frustration and attraction of the past three days. She wasn't used to caring about a guy. Hell, she wasn't used to feeling mixed emotions either. But there was something about him, beyond that arrogant grin and his ability to throw her off her senses. Something hidden behind his stare that dared not to come out. It was something that she wanted to be turned off by. But it threatened to draw her in.

At that moment, Buffy had caught up with her and placed her hand on Faith's arm.

"Faith? Faith, I'm sorry if that was too much." She apologized, acknowledging how uncomfortable the whole conversation had made Faith feel. "I should've known when to stop and… and I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Faith replied after briefly taking in Buffy's apology. "We're good."

"Good?"

"Five by five, B." She gave the blonde a small nod. "Now let's just find these people and get this over with."

* * *

In hindsight, throwing himself into the thick of it was never a good plan especially if he wanted to make it out with a functioning cock and bollocks. But hindsight is usually 20/20 and besides, he wasn't used to dealing with civilians. His few forays into proper "heroism" like his "contemporaries" usually led to a higher body count than he'd be comfortable with.

Just as he managed to fully recollect himself, he was knocked back into a synaptic world of pain via a sharp kick to the ribs. Looking just as haggard and beaten as he was, Darius's face seemed to be dancing somewhere between cold contempt and maniacal glee. If he were a more sympathetic individual, he would have been able to understand. It wasn't as if he accidentally disrupted the vampires' sense of order.

"I'm afraid that His Majesty is a preoccupied at the moment for conversation." Darius spat out at Constantine's sprawled out form. "But, I'm happy to pass on any words you would like to give the King."

Coughing out in pain, each hacking breath he took adding on to the pain in his ribs, he slowly tried to hall himself up off the floor.

"Oh, is there a problem Mr. Constantine?" Darius asked, gleeful rage starting to boil over. "I was under the impression that you had something you would have liked to discuss."

He delivered another swift kick to the mage's side.

"Oh, dear. I do believe I heard a rib snap there." He grabbed the bruised and battered Brit and hauled him up to his feet. "Ever since you've arrived here, you've been more trouble than it's worth."

With a swift right hook, he knocked Constantine back into a state of near delirium.

"You know, I must confess. When I first encountered you, I had no idea just how much of an interference you'd be to the annexation." He threw the man against the rock wall of the inner cavern. "If you weren't such a dick, then I might have consider turning you into one of us."

He picked up the bruised and bloodied man with his one hand. "But I think I'll settle for having the pleasure of drinking the life out of you like a plucked fruit."

Than the mage did something that surprised Darius. He started to laugh. He knew what he had done to him. Hell, he knew that he must have even fractured a rib or two.

_So, what does this waste of skin even have to laugh about?_

"You're… an ambitious little cunt… aren't you?" Constantine barely managed to get the words out. "It's a bloody riot… innit?"

"What are you talking about?" Darius asked his voice laced with hostility. "Answer me you sack of fucking cum."

"How… inelegant." It was painful for him to speak, but he carried on anyway. "What happened… to playing the part?"

"Playing the part?" He scoffed. "You bloody idiot. There is no playing the part."

"What… so all this… dressage you've got going on… it's all for naught? Or do you just… revel in looking like… a wanker?"

The grip on Constantine's neck tightened slowly, his eyes widening slightly as he struggled to breathe.

"Why, Mr. Constantine, I am truly _shocked_." Darius replied mockingly. "And here I thought you possessed the same intellect as your stories would have me believe. There is no _playing_ the part. Only _becoming_."

"So… that's what's happened… eh?" His bruised and bloodied face contorting itself into a smile, despite the lack of breath. "Not content… becoming a vampire… so you've become some… pretentious cunt."

_Manny! Come and give us a hand you sodding bastard!_

"Pretentious? I'm fucking _honest_ , John Constantine. I'm surprised that you should be so dense given the life you lead. Why he's interested in you, God only knows…"

"So… here you are then. A tarted up… parasite… drunk on your own existence."

"I'm merely acknowledging the truth and the privilege of ascending to something greater." He squeezed his hand slightly and gave a small smile as he watched Constantine's eyes begin to bug out.

Using the last of his strength, he grabbed at Darius's hands, doing his best to loosen the death grip on his throat. _Christ, where the hell is that feathery fuck when I need him?_

Just as he was about to slip into unconsciousness, he was dropped down, his body colliding with the ground. From his prostrated from on the ground, he could make out the sight of Darius being thrown onto the ground just as something blocked his view. Hauling himself up and off the ground, he was greeted with the very welcome sight of his old associate.

_"_ _John Constantine."_

Dusting away the dirt from his trenchcoat, he did his best to stand up a bit straighter despite his injuries. Straightening his tie and wiping away the blood from the corner of his mouth, he gave a small nod to the creature that had saved his life.

"Swamp Thing."

_Well, this has all gone tits-up now hasn't it._

* * *

Running throughout the labyrinth of caverns and tunnels, Buffy and Faith scanned the whole cavern with what light they had to make do. The steady beat of water drops echoed off the walls as they searched in urgency for the innocents that the vampires had captured.

"Did Constantine ever say where the captives are?" Buffy asked in frustration, still searching for anything that could indicate the presence of civilians.

"Nope. The ass-hat ran off before he had a chance to be specific." Faith answered. _Although, that was probably my fault..._

"Yeah, maybe you should've waited for him to tell us that before you kissed him." Buffy responded, as if reading her fellow Slayer's thoughts.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to retort, she was interrupted by the faint rattling of chains and what sounded like muffled moans. Bringing her finger up to her lips, Buffy looked around trying to discern where the noises came from. They found themselves in front of the dark waters of a small puddle, underneath a stalactite. Looking to each other in confusion, neither of them really understanding the magic acting at play.

With a shrug of her shoulders, Faith jutted her hand into the puddle. For a brief moment, it felt as if she had been jettisoned out of an airplane, twisted into three different levels of reality, and dropped into another dimension. Having come to her senses on the other side, she found herself upright in a crowded rock face, a single torch lighting the whole area.

In the dimly lit cavern, packed together like cattle in a slaughterhouse, a group of thirty-odd people were found cramped together, chained up to the walls like livestock. A litany of limbs and guts were strewn out along the entire room, each bit and piece seeming to correspond with an empty set of manacles.

The ones left, some thirty-odd people, were beaten and bloodied, their clothes ragged and torn. Upon the sight of the young woman, they all began to cry out for their help, the cacophonous noise of their chains rattling to and fro.

Faith could only open her mouth in shock as she heard Buffy from the other side of the puddle, calling out to her.

"Buffy, you better get in here." She called out absently.

A small splash and later, and she was at her side, taking in the sight before them.

"Oh my god…" The sight almost reminded her of the "Family Home" front back in Los Angeles, only taken to a very perverse extreme.

"Yeah. He wasn't exaggerating when he said 'farm'…"

Shaking themselves out of their shock, they began breaking the chains that held the captives. As she was freeing the prisoners, another wave of shock hit Faith as she stared into the face of one of the chained prisoners. It was the same girl who left the college party with Darius the other night. Quickly turning to the faces of all of the people they had freed, she realized that she had seen all of these faces before.

They were all people reported missing in the past couple of weeks. People who were reported missing only _after_ the murders had started.

Faith could only bite at her tongue as she realized just how necessary their "consultant" was all along.

* * *

"Well, it's been a bloody long while hasn't it, mate?"

_"_ _Indeed, John Constantine."_

"Oh, you don't have to sound so thrilled." The mage responded with his usual sarcasm. "Thanks for the save by the way."

_"_ _I know… that you have summoned me here… Constantine."_

Getting out his pack of cigarettes, he shot the plant elemental a look of annoyance. _Bollocks._

"Well, next time tell the missus to pick up her bloody phone." He lit his cigarette, much to the noticeable annoyance of the elemental. "You'd have been useful to have around, especially during that mess back in Jerusalem…"

_"_ _Constantine…"_

"…although, I suppose that specky bloke, whatever his name was, handled himself okay…"

_"_ _Enough!"_

Constantine ground his rambling to a halt as he struggled a breath as he exhaled his cigarette smoke.

_"_ _Tell me now… why you have summoned me here."_

"I needed your help for this mess, obviously."

_"_ _Obviously."_

"Oi! Don't get clever. It doesn't suit you."

_"_ _So, you required… my help… against these vampires."_

"Well, I didn't summon you here from the bayou for a fucking trip down memory lane." He smiled crookedly, just as Swamp Thing returned his smile with a scowl.

_"_ _My work… in guarding the Green takes… precedence… over your affairs, Constantine."_

"Oh, come on you, olive-tinted bastard!" Constantine cried out in mock exasperation. "Me forcing you to fight a hidden sect of vampires in Smalltown, USA? It'll be just like old times."

_"_ _No… I have had more… than enough of your… presence in_ _**my** _ _life."_

John stared back at the red irises of the plant elemental, his eyebrow raised as if he were challenging him to try and outsmart him.

"Very well." John replied, with a hint of acceptance. As he faced away from the sentient mass of vegetation, he continued, "I guess, I'll just have to pass on the news to Abby some other time, then."

Swamp Thing's generally expressionless face seemed to flash with a brief moment of worry, upon hearing the name of his fiancé.

_"_ _Pass on… what news… to Abby?"_

John gave a small quirk of the lips as he turned back to his old friend. _Now I've got you._

"Oh, it's quite personal, mate. I don't know if I should tell you, considering how it doesn't directly involve you…"

_"_ _Constantine…"_ The elemental's voice filled to the brim with impatience as he considered what the con-man was implying.

"It's something that's strictly _her_ business, mate." He said, taking one last drag of his cigarette. "I'm not sure if I would be at liberty to disclose any of her personal matters."

The bright red eyes of the plant elemental stared long and hard into the Brit's keen blue eyes. Swamp Thing knew that he coming to this town was trouble, and upon hindsight should have known better than confronting John Constantine. But he knew that the blue-collar mage had more than enough sense to lie to him. And despite his previous history of being a manipulator, he was always good on his word in providing him with what he wanted to know. Besides, if whatever it was that Constantine knew involved Abby in some way, then Alec definitely _needed_ to know.

_"_ _What do you want… Constantine?"_ Swamp Thing asked resigning himself to being conned into another one of the mage's schemes.

With a stomp of his heel onto his now discarded ciggy, the con-artist could only smile.

* * *

"Is that all of them?" Buffy asked as she watched Faith guide the last of the captives out of the tunnels and back onto the surface.

"Yeah, that's the last of 'em." Faith responded, making sure that no one had been left behind.

"Good, let's make sure they get somewhere safe." Buffy started, making sure that there were no potential threats around.

"Wait, what about John?" They were both aware that a considerable amount of time had already passed and the Englishman had yet to show up.

"We can go back to help him, after we've gotten these people out of here."

Faith looked back and forth between Buffy and the tunnel opening before she seemed to finally settle on a decision. _God, this better be worth it…_

"No, B. You go on ahead. Make sure they're safe." Her voice took on a tone of resolve with an undercurrent of frustration. "I'm gonna get the dickhead outta there."

"What!? Faith, wait!"

Before Buffy could finish, the other Slayer had jumped back into the tunnels without so much a second thought. She ran to the tunnel entrance to catch a glimpse of Faith's silhouette disappear into the darkness below. Buffy was well aware to her fellow Slayer's predisposition to impulsiveness, but recently she had gotten use to the growing dynamic that the two of them shared. But recently she noticed how much Faith seemed to be behaving in the same way as when she first came to Sunnydale.

Looking back at the group of traumatized and confused people, she knew that she had to get them to a safe spot first.

_Just another day in the life of the Slayer._

* * *

Faith was not worried. She was not worried at all. Which was why she was running at breakneck speed down a cavernous network of subterranean tunnels to save the life of a rude Englishman she'd met only three days ago.

_Okay, I'm worried! Are you friggin' happy now?_

Despite her best efforts to remain calm, she knew just how well John Constantine was suited to actual combat. In short, he was terrible. So, when he mentioned that the last bit of his plan was to confront the King of the Vampires head on, she was more than a little concerned. That little seed of concern turned into flat out panic when she saw that the mage had yet to return to the surface.

She didn't bother denying to herself that any ounce of concern that she maintained for the man, wasn't because she had feelings for him. The kiss she gave him earlier would be a hard sell against at this point.

Navigating her way through the tunnels was a tougher challenge in the dark, but there was enough illuminated light for her to have some awareness of where she was going. She emerged into the main chamber and sprinted down the opposite tunnel. In her rush to find Constantine, she had ignored the gnawing feeling in the back of her neck.

Her eyes widened, and she ducked down onto the ground just in time to see a blur right above her. Quickly jumping back up, she barely dodged another swing from the shadowed figure. And suddenly Faith was knocked onto her back just as she was able to discern who her attacker was. From the shadows Mary emerged, battered and quite pissed off.

"You little shit!" She screamed out, grabbing Faith by her jacket collar and hurling her hard against the wall.

Wincing as she collided with tunnel wall, she recovered in time to avoid another swing from the pissed off vamp-whore as her fist missed the Slayer and collided with the wall. Thinking quickly, Faith grabbed Mary's free arm and landed a few blows on her.

Despite this, the punches seemed to have little effect on the vampire as she responded with even more aggression and fervor.

"What? You can't deal getting your ass handed to you?" Faith replied, dodging and blocking every swing and punch.

"Five weeks. Five fucking weeks, building our empire in this little crap-sack town!" She cried out just as she managed to sneak a hit into Faith's abdomen, knocking her back down.

Grabbing her hair and pulling it back she looked Faith in the eye as she continued, "And your little blonde boyfriend ends it all in a day!"

_Christ, and I thought I was a psycho-bitch…_

Thinking fast, Faith spat into Mary's eye, causing her to loosen her grip on Faith's hair. She then gave the vampire a quick head-butt, hard enough to knock Mary down onto the ground. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Faith got her stake out and leapt forward. Landing on top of the vampire, she drove her stake into the vamp's neck. She knew that ultimately these types of vamps were practically invincible, but she knew that they weren't immune to pain.

Mary cried out in anguish as the lengthened spike drove through into her windpipe, rupturing several of her vocal chords. But instead of distracting the vampire from the task of killing her, it only fueled her rage even more as she pushed Faith off her in one swift move, straddled her and started landing blow after blow on her, the stake still jutting out from her neck.

"Now, I'm not opposed to some girl-on-girl action, but even I think this is pushing it."

From where she lay, Faith saw Mary look up and turn to the source of the voice and her rage seemed to increase tenfold. Tilting her head slightly, something of a pissed off look emerged on her face as she spied the full form of John Constantine at the tunnel's end, hands in his pocket, a cigarette between his lips.

_The fucking bastard…_

* * *

"Thanks Giles, and see if you can call Willow and Xander. We could use their help too." She told her Watcher as he gathered the people and led them away from the cemetery.

Having called Giles's help in guiding the prisoners away from the cemetery, she quickly ran back to the mausoleum. She knew Faith couldn't handle the vampires alone, and she had her own reasons to also be worried about Constantine. After all, despite the man's general unpleasantness, he was her best shot at dealing with her recently resurrected ex.

Having made her way just to the mausoleum's entrance, she jumped in and began to run down the maze of passages that led to the main hall. Stopping just short of the opening, she heard voices from inside the chamber.

Staying out of sight, she ducked back into the darkness and waited for whoever else was there to be seen.

Her eyes widened at the sight of Willow and Xander haplessly wandering about the tunnels.

_What the hell are they doing already here?_

"Keep walking!" A voice commanded and the two teens begrudgingly obeyed, as they stepped forward into the chamber.

From behind the two teens, a woman in a pantsuit and glasses had a gun held at the two high school seniors. Buffy knew she had to think fast to save her friends.

"You know, if hospital administration isn't working out, there are _way_ better employment options than this?" Xander asked, her voice shaking as she felt the cold steel of the pistol's barrel poke into her back. "I mean I'm sure the King of the Vampires pays well, but you don't have to do hand us over to him."

"Oh, do _please_ shut the hell up." The woman replied exasperatingly as she urged the teens forward.

"What are you doing working for the King of the Vampires anyway?" Willow asked, doing a better job at sounding calm.

"I'm not working for the King." She replied blankly.

"Really?" Xander replied. "Because the gun in your hand says otherwise."

"Yeah, do you know what else it's saying? It's saying to keep your mouths shut!" She ended with a frustrated yell.

Buffy couldn't help but feel just a little bit of pride at the way her friends were able to annoy their captor. _There's that Sunnydale snark._ And just as she was about to launch out from her hiding place behind the throne, the woman's next words made her pause.

"I'm not working for the King. I'm working _with_ him."

"With him?" Willow asked, confused at the woman's words.

"I was assigned to this shitty town for the sole purpose of facilitating all matters between the King of the Vampires and my employers." She explained.

"So, if you and the King are just coworkers, then who's your boss?" Xander asked.

Having had enough of this line of questioning, the woman wedged her gun deep into Xander's back. "My orders state that I'm only to shoot if necessary, but right now my gun is aimed right at your back. What's to stop me from making your death look like an accident?"

Xander froze as his hands slowly raised, his eyes showing deep worry. Willow felt helpless watching her friend, the two of them going through the torture of not knowing what would happen next.

"What's there to stop me from killing you right here, where you stand?"

Xander closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.

"I believe, that would be me."

From behind the makeshift throne, Buffy leapt forward and landed a swift kick to the woman's leg, before turning around and delivering a quick knock-out blow to her. As she went down, she quickly knocked her gun away and turned to Willow and Xander who were now beaming.

"Guys, are you okay?"

"We sure are now, thanks to you." Willow beamed at her.

"Yeah," Xander said managing to steady his voice. "Really appreciate the rescue."

"Right place, right time. For once." Buffy responded, giving a casual shrug. "What happened to you two anyway?"

"Well, we both did the summoning spell that Constantine told us to do." Willow started, "And not much else happened afterward. We figured it must have worked because the sigil we painted went all glowy. And then all of a sudden she showed up with a gun and forced us here."

"Who is she anyway?" Buffy asked. _Because she definitely doesn't look the type to work with vamps…_

Willow and Xander both shrugged, just as clueless as she was as to who this mystery woman was. Buffy could only respond with a slightly helpless, slightly frustrated look. The last thing she needed was more mysteries.

"Oh, forget it. She's not important now." She said, turning to her two friends. "Faith needs our help."

"She needs _our_ help?" Xander asked, slightly incredulous that the sexy, free-spirited Slayer could possibly need their help. "What with?"

"She ran after Constantine. He sent us to rescue the prisoners that the King had been keeping." Buffy answered.

"What can we do?" Willow asked, eager to help.

"Willow, I need you to head back up to the surface and help Giles escort the prisoners away from the cemetery." She said to Willow, who nodded quickly before sprinting up the tunnels to the surface.

"Xander," She said, as she tossed him her extra stake, "you're with me. We gotta make sure Faith and Constantine are both alright."

"I'm with you Buff." Xander said, as they both started to set out toward the tunnels. "Wait, Buffy. Didn't Constantine say that stakes don't work on these vamps?"

"Yeah, I know." She replied grimly. Xander just continued looking at her with a hesitant and fearful look. "Consider it wishful thinking."

She smiled at him as they both ran down the tunnels to find their friend and their wanted-yet-needed associate.

* * *

Constantine was barely standing. It took almost every ounce of his strength to not collapse where he stood. Granted, the cigarette was doing more harm than good. At this point it was more the routine of it rather than the actual smoke that calmed his nerves.

"Are you in a spot of trouble, luv?" He questioned to the pinned-down brunette.

Faith was too delirious and too pissed off to even respond to his undying snark. _About frickin' time…_

"You." It wasn't so much a statement that came from the scantily-clad vampire, as much as it was an accusation. "You're John Constantine."

"Guilty as charged." He said, as moved to lean slightly on the tunnel wall. "And going by your accent and lack of clothing and brains, I can assume you're Mary."

"You know me?" Mary questioned, a venomous look in her eye.

"Well enough." He said, taking another painful puff of smoke. "There are stories abound of you. Although if memory serves me correctly, you're a recent promotion aren't you darling? Stories about you all only go back five years. Last I heard, you were in Israel giving hell to those sorry lot."

"Ah, yes. That was a lovely holiday." She smiled as she slowly stood up and moved away from Faith. "Did you know that Israeli blood is a particular delicacy amongst our kind? It has a sweeter taste, like that of honey wine."

"Huh." He said nonchalantly. "You learn something new every day."

"Yes, you do." She replied stepping closer slowly. "Imagine my surprise, when I learned just the other day that the Laughing Magician himself had stepped foot on the Hellmouth."

"Oh, I dread to think."

"That is the usual response."

"What a pretty bird, like you? I doubt it."

"Cut the crap Constantine." Mary spat at the exorcist. "Why are you here?"

"Me? Well, Ol'London town's become a helluva bore, innit." Constantine replied casually. "Decided to take a holiday."

"No. I know why you're here in this country." Mary claimed, easing her voice slightly as she took another step closer. "After all, who hasn't heard of the great _John Constantine_ and his role leading the sorcerers of this world in vanquishing the Darkness."

"Oh, I don't know about that." John replied wincing slightly at the description. "Under normal circumstances, I'd take all the credit. But I have to give that to Swamp Thing."

"Ah, yes." She purred, slowly advancing upon him. "The Plant Elemental. Coincidental that he should appear on the Hellmouth so soon after you, wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, it's a bit of a habit." He said, as he stepped closer also, doing his best to hide his limp. "He and I always had a knack of getting into trouble whenever we're together, isn't that right mate?"

_"_ _Correct."_

Before she could even realize it, Mary had been struck down onto the floor from above. Faith looked up to spot the familiar tangling sight of intertwined vines, moss, and vegetation slam down upon her from the tunnel roof. Her eyes widened as she witnessed the mass of vegetation manifest itself into the familiar form of the plant monster she had seen earlier.

"Cutting it close there, Swamp Thing."

_"_ _If I had desired… for your death… Constantine… then I would have killed you… myself."_

"After everything we've been through? I'm offended." John tossed away his cigarette and started limping toward her. "Are you alright, luv?"

Faith gave him an annoyed look, "What took you so long, you jackass?"

John gave a small grin of admiration in response. _Yeah, she's alright._

They were both shaken out of their thoughts as they felt a large tremor coming from behind them. They both turned to look to see the plant elemental swatting away at a thoroughly angered Mary.

"C'mon, luv. Time for us to bugger the fuck off." He grabbed her hand as they both limped away from the fight.

They were both slowly making their way through the tunnels and up to the surface. The sounds of splintering bark and anguished screams slowly faded away as they navigated themselves to the surface. Just as they turned the corner up into another tunnelway, they almost collided into another blonde/brunette duo.

"Bloody hell!" John yelped out, raising his hands as he was confronted with the sight of an adrenaline-fueled Buffy and Xander, both of them with their stakes at the ready.

"You're okay!" Buffy exclaimed, glad to see the both of them unharmed, save for a few bruises.

"Five by five, B." Faith replied laconically as she leaned on Buffy for support. "Now let's get the hell out of here before we run into any more surprises."

"I second that motion." Replied Xander as he moved forward to help a battered John Constantine.

The four of them quickly made their way up the tunnels. They had arrived back in the familiar throne room when their path was blocked by the bloodied and scarred form of Darius.

"Oh, bloody hell. Not you again." Muttered Constantine. _Twice in one night is enough with this arse-hole._

"You… you will pay for this… Constantine." He started to rush forward, just as another body collided with his.

They realized that the body of Mary had been thrown at Darius, the both of them seemingly dead or at the very least unconscious. From behind them Swamp Thing manifested from the subterranean roots. His pure red eyes gazed at the eclectic looking group before his deep guttural voice pierced the stunned silence.

_"_ _Go… I will deal with the parasites."_

Constantine nodded at his old friend as he beckoned the three shocked teens onward. Taking a quick glimpse back, he witnessed Darius land on top of the weary elemental. If it were anyone else, he would have been worried for their safety. But knowing Swamp Thing, he knew that he'd come out of this okay.

_Besides, I've yet to come through with my end of the deal. And it's not as if the leafy twat has a habit of forgetting._

As they limped their way out of the tunnels, they were greeted with the gracious sight of the pitch-black night slowly evolving into the pink/azure glow of early dawn. He let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding in. He didn't know exactly why, but he knew that there was definitely more than one reason. Perhaps it was the stress of having to work with not just one, but two old associates. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that the King was still out there. It could have been the fact that he was almost killed. But he suspected that it might be the fleeting off-chance that his stay in Sunnydale was far from over.

They managed to link up with Giles and Willow who had returned to the cemetery, the both of them managing to have gotten the vampires' livestock back to their homes and families. As they drove back to Sunnydale High in Giles's car, Constantine smiled slightly to himself despite the battering and bruising, and the string of subdued, Oxbridge abuse coming from his former mentor.

_At least this time, I get a fucking decent ending._

_If only it could last..._

* * *

Back in the caverns, deep in the bowels of the earth, the two vampires Mary and Darius awoke to a new world. The might of their King's empire had been challenged. Within three days, the Laughing Magician had led to the deaths of almost every vampire stationed on the Hellmouth. As their eyes slowly opened, they were greeted with the sight of their King.

"My lord," Darius started, ashamed to look into the eye of his King. "I… I can't – "

"Hush, now Darius." The King calmly interrupted. "There's no need to feel ashamed."

"My lord, we have lost the entire outpost." Mary replied, shocked at the clemency being shown. "We've been defeated. We have failed you."

"I know Mary." The King replied plainly. "And for that I should chastise you both. But to do so to my best advisors would be foolish of me."

Leaning forward to help them up, the King smiled down at his subjects. He swept the dirt off their shoulders and sleeves and bid them to follow him.

"You…" Mary started, hesitant to continue. "… you do not seek revenge on the Constant One, My Lord?"

"Vengeance?" The King questioned with an insatiable laugh. "Perhaps if he were any less of a man. But the skills possessed by him, make him more valuable alive."

"Alive?" Darius asked, questioning his King's line of thought.

"Yes, my dear Darius. Alive. Think how much of an asset he could be our kingdom if he were one of us."

Darius remained silent as he pondered the King's grand scheme. _He… he can't keep that… arsehole alive, let alone turn him into one of us._

"However, we must not forget that we have still lost a territory. And as such, someone must be punished." He explained as he halted in front of the unconscious body of Dr. Vestra Cameron.

"Her failure to warn us sooner of the Constant One's arrival, will be met with… _severe_ consequences." He smiled, turning to Darius and Mary who in turn smiled back at him.

Just as Dr. Cameron was coming to, she was greeted with the sight of her charges. The King of the Vampires looked down at her with a very distinct hunger. She crawled back up against the wall in fear, her throat dry and incapable of producing any sound.

_No escape._

Like a fountain, blood flowed in a seemingly endless stream down the walls of the cavern. The vampires brought down their wrath upon her, taking their vengeance, filling their thirst, sating their savage lust.

The King looked upon the crimson carnage he and his advisors left behind. And he thought it good.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was one helluva chapter. So, yeah we're dwindling down now, two more chapters and then the conclusion. Thanks again for being patient with me.
> 
> So, the King's empire is dead. Okay, it's mostly dead. Or at least it is within the confines of Sunnydale. And finally Willow and Xander get to make a bit more of an appearance. Finding a way to include them in the plot in a way that didn't feel to contrived was a bit of a challenge, so I hope it worked out well.
> 
> Also, I need to take a moment to state just how much I love writing Constantine getting the shit beaten out of him. It's a thrill. It really is.
> 
> Please, review. Any and all reviews are welcome, so long as they're kept civil.


	25. A Short Goodbye and A Whispered Story

**Chapter 24: A Short Goodbye and A Whispered Story**

_A single whistle made her alert. From the single whistle, there was an overwhelming noise that sounded like a cheap and broken church organ filled her ears. Her eyes shot open and she saw that she was in a field of mud and craters and barbed wire._

_"_ _Over the top!"_

_To her left she saw hundreds of men rise up from the ground, as if they were leaking from the center of the Earth. She noted that they looked like soldiers, all in uniform, rifles in each of their hands. An explosion shook her out of her reverie as she saw men fly from the sheer force of the blast. And then another explosion. And then another. And another._

_"_ _Keep advancing!"_

_"Watch your left!"_

_"_ _Steady on, men!"_

_"_ _For King and Country!"_

_Faith, in that moment, realized where she was. She was in a war-zone._

_The men were walking toward her, but they didn't seem to see her, each man walking past without so much as a nod to her presence._

_A staccato rhythm started to fill the air, and one by one men started to fall, little spurts of blood erupting from their chests. Turning to her right, she saw a seemingly endless line of barbed-wire and sandbags. From where she stood she could see the little silhouettes of helmets. It reminded her of those old, black and white war movies that her mom would leave on when she was passed out drunk on the couch._

_Gunshots erupted all around her. The soldiers, some of whom looked almost like boys, were dropping like flies. The smoke and gunpowder formed a thick mist that seemed to mark the end for all who walked into it._

_Faith realized that she should be frightened, but she wasn't, at least not for herself. She was scared for the soldiers, as they walked willingly into this carnival of death. What she was, however was confused. Nothing seemed to touch her. Not the bullets from the machine guns. Not the men who were falling around her. Not the artillery fire from the cannons that she couldn't see. Even the mist seemed to avoid her, as if she was a plague._

_She felt a hand on her shoulder grip her and spin her around. She was greeted with the sight of a familiar face, battered and bloodied. Half of his body was caked in mud, and his eyes were as blue as the morning sky. He had no helmet on, so she could see how half of his head was draped with thick, brown hair and the other half was caved in, bits of brain and peeled skin hanging off, all coated in grease and blood. He leaned toward her, his mouth so close to her ear._

_"_ _He's coming." He whispered to her, fear and agony in his voice. "You must warn him._ _**He's coming.** _ _"_

_She felt no pain as they were both engulfed in a hail of artillery._

Faith shot up in a cold sweat in an unfamiliar room. She felt sick and disorientated, like her head was swimming with aches and pains and something else. Something unfamiliar. Hauling herself up, wanting to get out of the bed, she had to keep herself from collapsing back into the sheets. She couldn't remember what exactly had happened in the dream. But she knew that it was more than vivid. She recalled her first Watcher telling her about Slayer dreams.

_And how effed up they can be…_

Checking the clock on the nightstand, she saw that it was half past three in the morning. Faith knew that she had to get back to sleep soon. Her fight with Mary did more than a number on her. And after finally managing to end the seemingly unending stream of deaths that had befallen Sunnydale, she wanted desperately to catch up on sleep.

She sighed to herself before slowly resting her head back down onto the pillow. Closing her eyes, she willed her unsettled mind to rock back into the realm of dreams. And yet she couldn't bring herself to do so. The words of the soldier from her dream still echoed through her mind.

_He's coming._

_You must warn him._

_He's coming._

* * *

When Rupert Giles contacted his former student to assist in this one investigation, he expected that there would be trouble. He just accepted that it would be chaotic. But never in all his years as a Watcher did he ever anticipate that John Constantine would cause so much trouble within less than a week.

_Less than one blasted week!_

But despite his misgivings and apprehensions, he couldn't be completely disappointed. After all, his actions did lead to the expulsion of the King and his consorts from Sunnydale. That didn't stop him however from going on at the magus for endangering the lives of almost all the teens that he had gotten used to taking under care.

"… and to involve Willow and Xander in this… this… hair-brained scheme of yours!" He cried out in frustration at the bandaged mage. "What in God's name were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that they wanted to learn about magic and to be of use. So, I obliged." He said, rolling his eyes at the tweedy old man. _Bugger me, when is this gonna fucking end?_

"And you obliged? Is that really all you can say for yourself, man!?"

Constantine only responded with a noncommittal shrug. He was used to having been told of by his old teacher before. But he'd never gone on about his recklessness for this long before. An entire two days being devoted to his chastisement of his endangering of the Slayer and her mates.

"Good Lord. Why do I even try?" He said, taking his glasses out and cleaning them with his handkerchief. "And on top of all this, y-you summon a-a _Plant Elemental_? How do you even _know_ a Plant Elemental?"

"That there's a bit of a long story there, chief." He stated plainly. "I doubt you'd want to hear it."

"I just can't believe that your solution to this situation would be to involve the Green itself. I really can't." Giles stated, still quite distressed about the events of that night.

"Oh, for Christ's sake! What's gotten your head in a bloody toss?" Constantine exclaimed, tired of Giles's ranting and raving. "You told me you needed my expertise and I provided it."

"I told you I needed your assistance and cooperation." He sighed. "If you were going to pull such a stunt so soon, the least you could have done was to tell me your plan in full."

"And in the end, your Slayers handled themselves well, didn't they?" He interrupted, pressing his point. "They saved the bloody day, their mates didn't die, and you can stop pissing yourself over the potential colonization of a race of super-vampires."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that John!" Giles burst out in exasperation. "And I know very well that your methodology is quite unorthodox, but forgive me if I was worried."

He ran his hands over his face, trying to make the right words form.

"It's just ever since I've been assigned to Buffy, my life, my work now has some semblance of purpose and direction. When I figured that your assistance would be required, I was concerned that this would all end just like…"

"Just like what Rupert?" Constantine asked the somewhat tempered Giles, daring the Watcher to finish his sentence."

"Like…" He paused hesitant to continue his point. "... just like Newcastle."

Constantine's face hardened as Giles decidedly paused in his point. They both knew exactly what he was talking about. That night was a haunting disaster for all of them. It served as a constant reminder of both of their failures. John closed his eyes and his mind instantly traveled back to that fateful night at the Casanova Club.

_C'mon Astra, run!_

_Run!_

There was a very pregnant pause that followed. John knew very well that his involvement in this affair could very well end up like that disaster that plagued him that night. Even with this recent detour, there was still a body count. The Fates seemed to have a habit of screwing him over.

"Well, there's no need for panic now, eh." Constantine finally replied, his voice raw and empty, in an open attempt to bury his regret.

They both knew that a line had been crossed. If anything, the ensuing silence was a testament to that.

"Well, I apologize if I didn't want some numpty ol'fucker pissing about how much of a reckless punk I am for considering such a course of action."

"I'm not just some… some 'numpty old fucker' as you so eloquently put it." Giles retorted, starting to feel another headache come on. "I'm a Watcher. My priority is to my Slayers and to the Council."

"Oh, isn't it just." Constantine sarcastically replied. "You know, there are times where I wonder what happened to get you to join those stuck-up, toffee-pudding wankers."

"Do you want to know what happened John?" Giles responded. "I grew up."

"No, you didn't mate." John returned Giles's hardened look of seriousness with his own plain look of stoic bravado. "All you did was walk away."

Without another word, he grabbed his trenchcoat and stalked away out the doors, leaving Giles in a stunned and angered silence. As he made his way through the maze of high school students, he began to contemplate whether staying on this shithole of a town would really be worth it.

_Giles should count his lucky stars that I'm still in the bloody game._

* * *

"Wow. It sounds like Oz and I missed out more than we expected."

"You don't know the half of it." Buffy replied.

The whole gang had managed to recover from the chaotic mess of having expelled the King's breed of vampires from Sunnydale. After finally filling in the rest of the details to Oz and Cordelia, they made a collected decision that they deserved a little victory celebration. Which meant a night at the Bronze, with the added bonus of Joyce's blessing of an extended curfew.

_Gee, thanks Mom._

"So, given what you've told us about this Constantine guy, are you sure he's safe to be around?" Cordelia asked.

"Well, he's manipulative, a self-professed con artist, a chain-smoking sorcerer, and a possible alcoholic…" Xander listed off.

"But he did save our lives." Willow added, finishing Xander's statement.

"No, Willow. He saved Buffy and Faith's lives." He countered, putting his arm around Cordelia. "He tricked you and I into performing some weird nature magic and left us to be captured by some psycho-doctor-slash-blood-dealer."

"Oh, yeah." Willow responded quietly, slightly despondent at her recalling the events of that night.

"And why are you even asking us that Cordelia?" Buffy asked. "I mean it's not like you've even met him."

"Because based on how you've described him, I'm pretty sure that guy arguing with the bouncer over there is him." She pointed out, looking toward the bar.

The rest of the gang turned and were instantly greeted amidst the hub of the Friday night crowd with the sight of blonde man in a rumpled suit arguing with a bouncer. It wasn't until they actually saw him that they heard the faint "sod offs" and "friggin' twats" coming from the Englishman. Given just how much more heavyset the bouncer seemed to be compared to the lean Brit, Buffy decided to give a helping hand before things degenerated too far.

She made her way through the crowd, inching closer to the bar _._ She could just begin to make out what the argument was about.

"This is bloody ridiculous, is what it is!"

"Sir, I have to ask you again to please step outside."

"Jesus Christ! I've not done a goddamn thing!"

"I know sir, but if you want to smoke, then you'll have to step outside."

Buffy could only sigh and give a quick roll her eyes over the whole debacle. _Of course, it's about his stupid cigarettes…_

Arriving at the bar, she tapped the mage on the shoulder. "There you are Uncle John!"

"Eh?" Constantine turned to her, confused, angered, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

"I've been looking all over for you." She continued on with a false perkiness. "I thought you were gonna get here earlier. I was so worried that you wouldn't be able to meet some of my friends."

"Miss, your… uncle… was ready to break house rules – "

"I know, and I'm so sorry about that." Buffy apologized with faux embarrassment as she tugged on Constantine's arm. "My mom's always telling him off about his smoking habit. I swear Uncle John, that's gonna get you killed one day."

"Oi! I – "

"He won't be a bother anymore, sir. I'll keep him in check. Thank you so much." She ended with a smile before she dragged the thoroughly confused mage off and away from the bar.

"You know, I had that under control." Constantine replied, one arm occupied clutching his coat and drink, the other being squeezed in the vice-like grip of a Slayer for the second time this week.

"Sure, you did Mr. Constantine. The same way you had Darius and Mary under control."

"I told you to quit calling me that. Makes me feel like a right old tosser."

"Well, British profanity and indoor-smoking aside, you should count your lucky stars that I saved your ass… again."

He huffed back a complaint, too worn out from the last few days to even start another wave of teeny-bopper banter. Just as he was about to ask where she was dragging him to, he realized and felt even more desperate for a cigarette.

"Oh, hi Mr. Constantine!" He heard from the perky ginger with the less-than-subtle interest in magic. "We were just telling out friends about how you helped us out with the King."

"Oh, I dread to think." He replied carelessly, and somewhat absently, as he plopped down on the seats next to Xander and Cordelia.

"So do we considering what Buffy has said about you." Cordelia replied taking in the full reality that was 'John Constantine'.

"Mr. Constantine, I don't think you've met our friends." Buffy interrupted, not wanting to offend the unpredictable Brit. "This is Cordelia and Oz."

Cordy gave short handwave to the unamused Englishman, while Oz seemed to have a different reaction. He sat quietly, stone-faced, and unflinching.

_Okay, Oz is acting more… "Oz" than usual._

"Cordy, Oz, this is – "

"John Constantine." Oz spoke up monotonously, finishing Buffy's introduction.

"Ta, kiddies." Constantine smiled as he sipped at his beer, winced slightly, and sighed. "Holy bleeding Mary… I'll never understand how you Americans can tolerate that swill."

Buffy, Xander, and Cordelia all rolled their eyes, while Willow smiled awkwardly, slightly amused and confused at the walking contradiction of the mage. Oz , however seemed to be somewhat in a catatonic state his eyes wide with their usual unreadability. Buffy crooked her eyebrow at Oz's reaction, worried what had gotten him so out of character.

"Um, Oz? Are you alrig – "

"John Constantine." Oz interrupted. "THE John Constantine."

"Oz, honey, are you okay?" Willow asked taking note of the unbounded shock on her boyfriend's face. "You look like you're about to faint."

"You're THE Johnny Con-job?" Oz replied, still wide-eyed.

"Oh, so you've heard of me?" Constantine replied, slightly shocked that echoes of his past career had reached the far coast of the Americas.

"Y-yeah… I'm a big, big fan of Mucous Membrane." Oz started, his usual stoic composure quickly evaporating into one that was, shockingly enough for the rest of the Scoobies, star-struck. "When I first your guys' lead single, I instantly made the rest of 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' listen to it. Which is my band, by the way… I felt I should mention, you know… that I'm part of a band too."

"Woah! Woah! Hold up a minute!" Interrupted Xander, overwhelmed at seeing Oz descend into awkward rambling. "Band? Album? Oz what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, I'd like to know too." Buffy asked, shocked at potentially discovering another layer to the irreverent 'petty dabbler of the dark arts'.

The whole Scooby Gang turned to face Constantine, who was languidly sitting near the end of the couch, a part of him still annoyed at the sub-par quality of beer, another part of him slightly amused that someone in America listened and _liked_ his old band's only album.

"Well, back in my ratty teenage years, I was the lead singer in a punk band called Mucous Membrane." He explained, smiling at the shocked faces of the young teens surrounding him.

Oz seemed ready to either burst into another rambling mess of awkward praise or to straight-up faint from excitement. Either way, Buffy was more than a bit disturbed at just how much John Constantine was the source of all this. She was even more disturbed to find out that the man had a music career.

"Wait, so before all the magic and trenchcoats, you were actually… a pop singer?" Buffy asked more than a bit shocked at this revelation.

"Punk rocker." Constantine corrected her. "Yup that's right kiddos. I wasn't always an upstanding warlock. Mind you, we only ever cut one record."

_And it was absolute shit._

"If you were fine just being in a punk band, what made you become an exorcist then?" Willow asked, her curiosity of the man increasing.

The atmosphere shifted slightly as Constantine took time to contemplate his answer. His care-free smile seemed to waver and drop slowly as he seemed to be taken back somewhere. The roar of the club seemed to bring him back to those days of scattered youth.

_Singing punked up Iggy Pop covers with Gaz, Beano, and Les…_

_The band's first gig at the Casanova Club…_

_His deeper descent into the occult…_

_A rainy night in Newcastle…_

"Things didn't work out." Was his only reply, repressing that painful void of memories. "After all, when do they ever do?"

The group of teens really didn't know how to respond to his answer nor did they know what to make about the thousand-yard-stare that had broken his usual snark. A voice from behind them shook all six of them out of the moment.

"Hey, guys have you seen John anywhere?" Faith appeared through the crowd.

"Right here, luv." The Brit piped up, downing the last of his drink.

"I need to talk to you about something." She started, not mincing any words. "In private."

Buffy gave Faith a knowing look, having promised to keep what happened down in the tunnels a secret. She could only imagine what those two would want to 'talk' about.

_On second thought, I'd rather not._

"Lucky for you, I was just leaving." He turned to address the rest of the Scooby gang. "Well, it was a gas meeting you all. And Oz was it? Good luck with the band. If it's advice that you were wanting to ask; live for the music, do as much drugs as you can, and don't get caught up in the occult."

The star-struck guitarist shook his head and gave a self-restricted smile, trying to reign himself in from his unusual outburst.

"Well, I guess I'll see you the rest of you lot around." He smiled putting on his trench coat before turning to the brunette Slayer.

"Wait! Mr. Constantine!" Buffy cried out, reaching for his arm. "I was hoping that I could talk to you in private too…"

"Well, aren't I just the popular one with the Slayer crowd." He snarked back at her. "One slayer at a time, Ms. Summers."

"Mr. Constantine," She replied with an emphasis on his name that wasn't all that foreign to him. "Please."

"Alright. We'll talk later." He answered her plea.

She nodded, gratefully before turning back to join her friends. _God, I hope I know what I'm getting into._

* * *

The cool night air was a grateful relief, because it meant that he was outside, which in itself meant that he was free to plague his lungs with nicotine, carcinogens, and whatever the hell else the Surgeon General claimed would lead to a shortened life. The smoke of his Silk Cut filled his lungs with unfathomed joy, as he took a puff of smoke, popped up his coat collar, and started to walk away in the direction of the motel, with one half of the Sunnydale's Slaying Duo shadowing him.

"You said, you wanted to have words." He addressed the Slayer, not even bothering to turn his head to her.

"Yeah, I don't think we're through." Faith replied nervously as she walked alongside him.

"What through with the vampires? Well, you _are_ a vampire slayer, so that's pretty much a given, luv."

"Don't get clever with me, wiseass." She bit back at him. "You know exactly what I mean."

"What makes you say that then?" He asked her in a tone that sounded as if he already knew the answer.

"Last night, I had this freaky dream." She started off, recounting the surreal vision. "I was standing in this muddy field and there was smoke everywhere and it looked like some battlefield. And this guy who looked almost exactly like you grabbed me and told me to tell you that 'he's coming'."

He sighed slightly, taking another breath of his cig. "You're right, luv."

"I'm right?"

"You're right." He reaffirmed. John knew full well about the Slayer line's predisposition to prophetic dreams. "We've beaten Darius and Mary, ol'Swampy killed off the rest of the King's breed that were sired here on the Hellmouth, and we've freed all of their prisoners, but that doesn't alter the reality that the King is still out there. And he still has a whole kingdom at the tip of his fingers. You're right. This isn't over yet."

"Glad to hear it." Faith replied, shocked that the cocky Brit seemed to admit so. "Now what are we gonna do about it?"

"There is no 'we' here." John answered, taking another drag of his cigarette. "From the sound of it, the King has his eyes set on me and only me."

"So what, I just let you go off and face him on your own?"

"Well, I did say that I wanted to have a chat with him…"

"You're absolutely insane, d'you know that?"

By now they had reached the car-park in front of Sunnydale Motor Inn. Turning to her, he gave her a small smile, before stomping out the last of his smoke. Failing to resist the urge, he gave her a quick wink.

"That's all they ever tell me, luv."

 _"_ _John Constantine…",_ A familiar guttural voice echoed from behind them.

They both turned to see the familiar sight of vines and vegetation manifesting from the ground under, seeping through the cracks in the gravel, and forming its recognizable monstrous shape.

"That's all they ever tell me." He muttered once more to himself. "Why don't you wait up in my room, luv?"

"Are you serious, right now?" She asked, exasperated with his blasé attitude to being the Ubervamp's most wanted.

"If you can't tell, I have a debt to settle first." He tossed her his room key. "I'll be in there soon. Trust me."

* * *

Faith slammed the door to the room with a groan of frustration. She wasn't one to give up so easily, especially with things that really mattered to her. But given that two of the three most unwarranted, unpredictable characters to arrive in Sunnydale since herself were right outside, she didn't want to interfere in their little "bonding time".

_The last thing I need is some battle royale with a living salad…_

She kicked the bedside table in frustration, shattering the wooden frame, splinters of wood pieces flying out. Her head was in a mess of confused emotions and impatient thoughts. She didn't know if the way that Darius guy had her in his grip had something to do with her recent frustrations. And she didn't even want to acknowledge how John Constantine could even somehow be a part of that. All she knew was that she had some effed up dream – _nightmare_ – about John, and he was being a wise-ass about it.

_Wait a minute, when the hell did_ _**he** _ _start mattering to me?_

She flopped down on his bed and closed her eyes, the chaos of the past few days washing over her like a deluge threatening to drown her sanity. Flashes of memory haunted her mind when she did.

She saw her first Watcher get torn to shreds by Kakistos.

She felt the cold, calloused grip of Mary's hands on her throat as she felt the life get squeezed out of her.

She heard the cacophony of machine gun bursts and artillery shells land around her as thousands of young men were cut down around her. _But that was only a dream, wasn't it?_

**_"_ ** **_He's coming. You must warn him. He's coming."_ **

* * *

"It's odd how everyone seems to be wanting to have words with me today." John Constantine pondered, partly to himself, as he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.

_"_ _You know why I am here Constantine."_

"Oh, come on mate. You could've at least waited until I was finished with my friend back there."

_"_ _As you so often say, turnabout is fair play."_

"You bastard," He smiled sardonically at him. "Using me own words against me."

_"_ _My control of my powers is not the only thing that I have learned from you, John Constantine."_

"Glad to see you're still not the same dense git that I first met… much." He trailed off, before putting his hands in his coat pocket.

"Here," He said getting out a small piece of folded paper, he handed it to the towering Guardian of the Green. "It's a summary of the coroner's report for one Miss Emmeline Arcane."

The creature known as Swamp Thing only looked up from the paper, blinking at the Englishman's words, before looking back down at the folded piece of paper in his hand. The subject of the Arcane family was a deeply personal matter for his fiancée, one that he knew she would want to know.

Perhaps dealing with Constantine again wasn't all for naught… this time at least.

_"_ _Thank you… John."_

Constantine only gave a half snort to his old friend's reply. It wasn't a response he was entirely used to.

With a curt nod of the head, he bade Swamp Thing farewell, watching slightly as the tangled web of vines, weeds and miscellaneous vegetation disappeared through the cracks of the asphalt car park until there was no more.

Rolling his eyes slightly at the drama of the whole thing, he let out a tired breath.

"Until next time, you bastard."

Opening the door to his room, he was ready to be greeted with the energetic and slightly blood thirsty attitude of Ms. Lehane. What he didn't expect was to find her asleep, on the edge of his bed. He gave a small sigh, took of his trench-coat, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and unknotted his tie.

_Typical._

He walked toward the bed and pulled the alarm clock out from the mess of splinters that was his bedside drawer. Somehow, it was still plugged into the wall, and he read the time. It was half-past ten. He dropped the alarm clock down on the floor with an inelegant thump, and started to wake the snoozing Slayer up.

"Faith." He said as softly as he could bare. "Oi, Faith."

She stirred slightly, and just as he was about to make a louder exclamation, he hesitated and stared at her tired face.

He knew the weight that was placed upon the shoulders of the Slayers. It was an unholy cross to carry, no matter how much the Watchers' Council claimed otherwise. After all, how old is she? Eighteen? Nineteen? And Ms. Summers was still seventeen according to Giles.

_And they have the task of protecting our fucked-up species from total immolation._

Reaching out, he tucked away a small strand of Faith's hair that had fallen in front of her face. He knew that what they had would be – _hell, it fucking_ _ **is**_ – wrong on so many levels. He could see this ending badly, just like with Zed, just like with Emma, just like with Anne-Marie, just like with Judith. And the fact that he knew how this would end, only made it more bittersweet for him when he realized that he was still watching her sleep.

_Christ on a fucking bendy-bus, John. Snap out of it._

_She's a Slayer, you're a con-man, and you're both screwed up messes._

_The fact that she's barely over the age of consent is clue number-fucking-one._

He ran his hands over his head, before he quietly stepped away from the bed. He would think about this another time, because God knows that he still had shit to do before he could leave. He needed to clean himself up, because as far he was concerned, he still smelled like that teeny-bopper shit-stain of a club.

Opening the bathroom door, he flicked on the light switch and paused dead in his tracks.

"Faith." He called out, not too loudly but loud enough to wake her up from her slumber. "Faith!"

"Mmm?" Getting up, Faith rubbed her eyes slightly. "Shit, did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah, didn't want to disturb you."

She crooked her brow as she saw that his voice seemed to come from behind the ajar door of the bathroom. "You, uh… you done talking to your swamp friend?"

"Yeah." He replied absently from the slightly closed door of the bathroom. "I'm going to have to go out for a while, luv."

Faith stifled back a groan of frustration as she asked, "What? Why?"

"Just uh…" He stared at the grotesque sight before him, thinking of a response to give her. In the sink lay the fresh, dismembered carcasses of three dead birds, the sink coated in guts and intestines. On the mirror in front of him, written in blood, was the name of a single location and instructions.

**WEATHERLY PARK, COME ALONE**

"…Just a little business to take care of, luv."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Yowza. This is so overdue, that I can only apologize. Life's been getting in the way of this, so things were set back more than I expected. For that I apologize. But your patience has been rewarded!**
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> **So this chapter probably contains the most references to John's... storied... past. If you can count them all, good for you, because this was written on and off over the span of three weeks, so I've forgotten myself how many Hellblazer references are in here. But yes, one of them is Constantine's old band Mucous Membrane. I can so easily see Oz being a fan of Mucous Membrane, and drawing inspiration from that for the Dingoes.**
> 
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> **Also, if you've read the comic, then the end of the chapter should sound familiar to you...**
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> **Thanks so much for being patient and having to put up with my eclectic schedule.**


	26. Remarkable Lives

**Chapter 25: Remarkable Lives**

"For the last bloody time, you shouldn't come."

"For the last _bloody_ time, I don't give a crap what you say."

It was futile for him to think that he could empty the birds from the sink without Faith noticing. And given the smell, it didn't make for a pleasant revelation. What he found the most grating was the ensuing argument that had followed. He knew that this would be a message sent from their recently exiled fang-faced friends, but he didn't know what it would mean or why they wanted to talk to him. All John Constantine knew was that he was their only target.

So, when Faith announced that she'd be coming along, he wasn't exactly thrilled. Which is how he found himself walking to the park in the middle of the night accompanied by a living tempest of a woman.

"I'm serious, luv. This is only gonna end badly if you tag along."

"What happened to me being your personal bodyguard, huh? Because don't think I don't remember you _using_ me to protect your scrawny little ass."

"That was before I knew that we were dealing with these kind of vampires."

"And you still thought that I was good to take on Darius alone."

"I thought you were good at distracting Darius." John clarified. "For Christ's sake, Faith! This isn't a fucking game."

"You think I don't know that!" Faith yelled back at him. "Listen, Conny. Ever since I started playing by your rules, I've been punched, kicked, choked, interfered with, and freaked out more than I have ever been in my whole life. I'm done playing by your rules, got it? I'm coming with, whether you like it or not."

Too tired to even resist, he stayed silent, the only noise made being the sound of their footsteps on the pavement. And with a long, yet quiet sigh, he gave her a steely look that more or less acted his acquiescence.

_It's your funeral, luv._

With a small smile forming on her lips, she crossed her hands, as she and the tuckered-out mage carried on into the night.

* * *

The gates of Weatherly Park loomed before them like the entrance to one's own personal perdition. Being the largest public space in Sunnydale, with its expansive grove and garden areas, it was the pride and joy of the town. And the obvious hangout for the more demonic denizens of Sunnydale's quite-literal underworld.

Standing in front of the gates, John stood still, eyes closed not really making a move to enter or flee the scene. Faith just watched him curiously as he started to rub his head with one of his hands, an attempt she figured to soothe a headache. The two of them had yet to move or even speak as the moon shone brightly above, almost at its zenith.

"If I can't convince you to not be here," John started, almost surprising Faith by breaking the silence, "then perhaps I can at least persuade you to wait out here for me."

"You can try, but you'd be wasting your time." She replied, her voice as steady and unemotive as his.

To that, he seemed to rub his head more, and she could hear him muttering under his breath something along the lines of "bollocks".

Raising her brow at his frustrations, a part of her satisfied at giving the asshat a taste of his own medicine, she walked over to the gate before breaking open the locked chains. As she pushed open the gate, he winced slightly at the sound of metal lightly scraping on gravel. Faith stepped inside and started to take a few steps forward. Turning around she saw that he was still staring blankly down the direction of the path, or maybe at her.

"Hey Conny!" She called out, injecting a bit of levity in her voice. "You coming or what?"

He said nothing as he stepped forward tentatively, him feeling the weight of each step as he soon found himself walking down the path into Weatherly Park. His face soon gained an aura of determination as his pace steadied.

Around them the faint reverberations of the Hellmouth could be felt in the very nature of the park. The woods seemed darker, the pathway seemed endless, the shadows taller and more imposing, and the night darker. The entrance to the park seemed to shrink in size with every passing step. The hooting of an owl acted as the icing to the top of this cake of clichés, as far as John was concerned.

_Woohoo. Spooky shit. Just because you pick a dark little wood to meet me in doesn't mean I'm scared of you, you sad bastard –_

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of the bushes rustling to their left. His movements froze as he felt Faith's hand in front of his chest. She placed a finger in front of her mouth, as they both scanned the darkness to see the source of the noise. In the thicket, John could barely make out the silhouette of some massive, hulking creature before his eyes widened in realization. His bravado disappeared like piss from a shrunken bladder when he makes out the face of the wolf and it glares at him with human eyes.

_Shit!_

Faith instinctively changed to a fighting stance, ready for the attack, the ambush, or whatever the hell would come. But it never did. Instead the wolf just stared at them, observing their discomfort, and whatever fear they may have shown. In an instant all of Faith's slayer senses came alive, her adrenaline shooting up as she saw shadows moving all around them.

Soon the whole cemetery seemed to come alive with the monsters, the demons, the creatures, and freaks, the dead. They moved past them from the undergrowth, some walking tall and strong as the day they died, some staggering, a few crawling. The two seemed to step closer to each other as they looked around them for any avenue of escape.

 _Bloody great this is._ John thought to himself. _Half of Sunnydale's freaks and phantoms are here, and we're smack in the middle of them._

Looking next to him, he could see Faith psyching herself up in preparation for the fight that they were gonna have to go through to escape. But before anything could be said or done, a ghastly voice beckoned for him from amidst the flood of creatures.

"Constantine."

"Huh?" He spun around, to be greeted with the sight of a decaying corpse, upright and walking. The creature appeared to be a frail skeleton decorated only with the wrinkled remnants of skin that were still attached and clinging to its bones. He didn't know what it was nor did he care to.

_Oh, Christ. Shit creek again._

Hesitantly, he started following the creature, Faith looking on at the sight in disgust before mimicking John's actions, only trailing behind John slightly.

As their undead guide led them deeper into the woods, their anxiety over what was to come grew steadily. They could tell from the movement of the shadows that their grotesque entourage of creatures and demons were following them, blocking any possible route of escape.

"Where – " The words scraped from John's throat like skin on gravel as he finished asking, "Where are we going?"

The creature slowly turned around and opened its mouth as if to respond. Only it didn't. Instead a wave of maggots and bile spewed out from the creature's mouth, cascading down like a waterfall before dripping onto the ground beneath. Faith stepped back slightly, wincing in disgust at the sight. John could only cover his mouth with his hand, trying not to throw up at the ghastly scene.

Faint laughter brings them out of their shaken responses as they scan around to see who else could be attending this parade of horrors.

"Who's there?!" John called out into the night, as Faith readied her stake.

"I thought I had made my instructions clear." Responded an unknown voice. Neither of them could see where the source of the voice had come from. "You were to come alone."

"Huh, could you be less specific?" Faith snarked back, tired with the drama of it all and wanting to get straight to the fight.

"Aren't you just a natural comedian. I can see why Darius was so taken by you." The voice replied, smooth as silk. "But far too insolent for my taste."

Her eyes widened when they landed on a dark figure sitting on a jutted-out tree root. She could barely make out the guy's face in the darkness, but she could tell that he tall and lean, not noticeably muscular, and dressed in all black.

"John Constantine. You got my message, then." The figure continued. "Relax. I won't hurt you."

"Stroll friggin' on, pal." Was all that John replied, showing no emotion.

The figure seemed to smile, more than bemused at John's sarcastic reply. Leaning forward into the illuminating moonlight, Faith could finally make out the features of his face. It was at that moment that she realized that there was a starting familiarity in how he looked. Everything from the shape of his chin, to the structure of his nose, to the shade of his hair, to the color of his eyes reminded her of James Dean.

_Because he looks_ _**exactly** _ _like James Dean, like a picture-perfect copy of him._

_A smug, fang-faced, blood-sucking James Dean._

_What the hell?_

"Heh. Funny." He smiled ignoring the presence of the Slayer, before asking. "Do you know who I am, then?"

John willed himself to remain calm, curling his opened hands into fists to stop them shaking. He didn't want to admit it, but he was nervous about this, despite his anticipation of meeting the creature before him. Taking a deep breath, he uncurled his hands and reached into his pockets to take out his lighter and a still-fresh pack of Silk Cuts.

_Let's cool down and get a grip here. Have a fag, smarten up, and_ _**don't show the bastard you're scared.** _

"'Course." He responded, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep breath of smoke. "I've read about you, heard the stories – never thought we'd actually meet. You're the Hunter of the Night with a thousand names, but only one title…"

With a deep breath, he turned to face the creature dead in the eyes.

"You're the King of the Vampires."

* * *

_John Constantine…_

_…_ _con man, joker, thief… magus?_

_Who the hell is he?_

* * *

"So, what's this all about?" John inquired steadily, his Scouse roots gaining more prominent in his accent.

"I thought you wanted to have a chat?" The King asked mockingly. "I'm merely obliging."

"Oh, sure." He replied, reciprocating with his own sarcasm. "Then why're you leaving dead birds in my sink – and why the weirdo convention?"

"I know there are easier ways to get your attention. Let's just say I was being overdramatic. After all, it seemed fair given what you've done to my kind." The King replied, his gaze somehow capturing both his guests despite being directed only at John. "But you must admit, it got you here. You're intrigued."

"Up to a point. This kind of thing's par for the course to me, mate. _Old_ news."

"So I'm led to believe." As they conversed, the manifold carnival of creatures, horrors, and monstrosities gathered around them, their shadows trapping them in like the bars of a cage. "I brought the rest of my children here tonight to meet with all the strangeness that Sunnydale has to offer. Great things are in the offing, and it's a good time to be talking to the malformed, the killers, the dead, the mad…"

The King stared hard into Constantine's eyes as if to read his thoughts through those perplexing windows into the soul. In response John only raised his eyebrow in subdued exasperation, having heard some variation of this speech exposited to him before. He'd managed to get his hands to stop shaking and now the ash from his cigarette was drifting to the ground slowly, marking the passage of time, as the King carried on.

"… everyone that the city casts aside, or who walks outside its stupid boundaries. And you. More than any of them, you."

Faith felt almost forgotten amongst the two, given how they seemed so intent on discussing each other, or in the King's case discussing John. Under usual circumstances, she'd remind them of her presence and that she wasn't some hapless damsel. But there was some unnerving feeling that seemed to be picking in the back of her head. Like both of these men – well, man and vampire – seemed to somehow interfere with her sense of order.

"Now, I suppose you think you've got nothing in common with them…" The King began again.

"You're telling me." John interrupted, his usual sarcastic asshole-ishness shining once more. "I mean, amongst lots of others, there's a fat bloke over there with steel spikes shoved through him from bollocks to throat and a two-foot-long forked tongue."

Faith found herself wincing at the sight of the creature he had gestured to. It wasn't every day that something like that made her a bit squeamish.

_But then again, this kind of shit doesn't happen every day._

"I don't honestly think we'd have a lot to talk about, do you?" John finished, falling back again to his blackest humor.

" _Ha_. That's funny. I like that." The King replied before continuing. "What about your, _ah_ , contemporaries? Some of them aren't what you'd call normal."

" _Contemporaries_?" He asked, his voice mixed with offense, confusion, and incredulity.

"You know who I mean. The others in your profession. What would you call them? Investigators?"

"Oh, Christ! **_Those_** bastards?"

"You don't like them?"

"If you're talking about all those pricks you use magic like it was water and dress up like twits, no I friggin' well **_don't_**."

* * *

_Little Astra's hand was still warm in his when Hell's teeth sliced through her arm and she disappeared below forever._

_That was almost ten years ago and further north, across the Pond._

* * *

_"_ _John Constantine? I heard that you had perished during the exorcism in Newcastle five winters ago."_

_"_ _Nah. The kiddie died and I was in a loony bin for a bit, but other than that it went really well."_

_"_ _The same Constantine. The same black humor…"_

_"_ _Is there any other kind?"_

**_\- A dialogue with a Stranger_ **

* * *

"You're bitter, aren't you? Then again, I've yet to meet a sorcerer whom you could call easy-going." The King responded, curious at the mage's outrage. "Why don't you like them?"

"'Cause they're all wankers." John answered in a voice full of untapped rage. "I mean, doesn't everything just go _perfectly_ for them? A little but of buggering about with spells and shit, and **_bingo!_** Problem solved!"

Faith found herself becoming just as curious as the King appeared to be. _So he's not the only asshole sorcerer out there? There's others like him?_

"And look at **_me_** , for fuck's sake! I can ca barely hold it together day to day!" He ranted on, now returning the King's stares with his own. "You're right, you really are. Easy-going? Never! Just look at them all!"

"Ever met the Stranger? Or the Baron? Or Doctor… shit, what's his name… well, whatever, there's loads of bloody doctors!" John exploded in what started to look like exasperated rage. "They're all total space-cases, if you ask me. All wandering round being enig-bloody-matic. They've all disappeared up their own arses and forgotten about **_life!_** "

He stared hard into the King's eyes before asking, "How about Jason Blood? Ever tried talking to him?"

"I've made his acquaintance…" The King replied.

"Well, he's ready for the nuthouse, he is." John responded before continuing in a faux upper-class English accent. " _I am… Jason Blood. I… I may have met you… or… or… no matter. I forget so much… but then, so little matters, wouldn't you say…?"_

"But you're different." The King half inquired, half stated.

"Yeah, I sodding am. The rest of them might be content to spend their time fighting the "Crimson Dong-Biter" or whoever, but I wanted to do something worthwhile." His face was now coated with rage and disappointment. "I thought the old bog god had promise, but he bollocksed it all up. If he'd let me help him he could have been something, but oh no. Instead of cleaning up the planet – and he could've done it easy – he sods off and starts fighting the frigging vegetable wars, for God's sake."

His anger and disillusionment seemed to reach its peak as he tossed away his cigarette and sat himself down on a log.

"So everything just stays as shitty as it's always been, and I go on trying to sort out stuff like mad old bastards killing kids and so on, and as usual I end up doing more harm than good." He sighed, placing his hands on his face. "Don't even know why I try."

* * *

_The Vampire had never seen such a magnificent slaughter as those roasting hot days in July of Nineteen Sixteen, when thousands upon thousands of boys who'd been told they were men died screaming on the Somme._

_Wave after wave of them died on German lines while their officers dined on chop and sherry far behind them, directing the massacre with the same enthusiasm they held for cricket. Why they were doing it mattered little to the Vampire; he'd gone to war the way you or I would go to dine and with so many delicacies on offer, he was spoilt for choice._

_He rested during the day and emerged at night, when the killing was done, the last few miserable souls writhing in agony, spilling their bayonet-slashed innards on the Flanders soil and taking far too long to die._

_He liked these meals the best when he could taste the feelings of betrayal and despair in their very blood. As he drank he'd whisper to them what fools they were to trust their leaders, enjoying their misery when the realized the awful truth, too late to rectify their error._

_The King of the Vampires found his food hanging on barbed wire in no man's land, and he rejoiced in the depraved glory of a life that brought sick new wonders every day._

_"_ _Good times."_

_-Excerpt from_ _**Occultism and Folklore in the Modern Era: An Annotated Collection of Mysticism in the Industrial Age** _ _by Jason Blood._

* * *

There was a brief silence that followed his tirade.

"There are few rewards for people like you, John." The King started as his eyes scanned the hunched over exorcist. "I've no idea why you do the things you do either, to be honest."

"Eh? Hold on…" John looked up, one hand still across his face which was now contorted into a look of offense. "Let's just keep it at 'Constantine', okay? You haven't heard me getting chummy have you?"

But before he could get in another word, one of the creatures from the surrounding monstrous 'entourage' peeled off from the rest and approached the King to deliver him a message.

"Oi! What's the big secret?"

"Pardon me a moment, friend. There's something I have to attend to." The King answered with a disturbingly even voice. "Apparently, someone's been spying on us."

"What?" John asked, before turning to look at Faith who only responded with a confused shrug of her own.

Just as he was about to inquire as to who had been interfering with their meeting, the surrounding sea of creatures parted and from the thicket emerged two figures, one notably human-shaped and the other a dark, transparent ghoul.

"Oh, Christ…" John stood up quickly, his words unknowingly imitating Faith's thoughts as they were both greeted with a worrying sight.

"Oh, shit."

Emerging into the moonlight was the familiar hovering form of a wraith, it's ghostly hands seeming to penetrate into the neck of the captured intruder. Under the wraith's control was the sight of a frightened, young police officer. With an air of authority, the King stepped forward to stand in front of the cop.

"Oh dear. Let me guess…" The King started, judgment and cruelty laced in his voice. "You were walking past the wood on patrol and you hear voices, so you decided to investigate."

Faith watched in morbid curiosity as the King removed the officer's cap and drew one hand around his back and another raised to his temple. Meanwhile, John turned his head away in disgust. He knew a bad situation when he saw one, and right now the poor copper was neck-deep in one.

John could only sigh at the sight, knowing full well what was to come. "You poor bastard…"

Faster than either of them expected, a crunch was heard followed by the brief sound squirting liquid and the sloshing of fresh meat in a grinder. With only a gasp of pain, the officer lay dead in the King's arms. Looking at Faith, John could see that she had a positively murderous look in her eyes coupled with total disgust. He placed his hand on her arm, a silent plea not to do anything too rash lest she end up just like the police officer. She just looked back at him with a resigned anger as she huffed back at him and shook his hand off her arm.

He gave a small sigh as he dared himself to look at the brief episode of carnage and instantly regretted it. In the King's hands the strung-out brain tissue looked like intestines, but dotted with torn skin and hair. The hole in the officer's head looked almost like a crevice as blood slowly poured out from his temple and down onto his shocked, yet limp, eyes.

"There." The King smiled, gazing upon his work. Turning to the two, he asked of them, "Would you like some? No?"

The mage and the Slayer only looked on in silence, horror and disgust decorated on their faces.

"Suit yourself."

Both Faith and John closed their eyes as the King took his first bite. Neither of them wanted to look on anymore, all bouts of curiosity evaporating as the King bit and drank and slurped.

 _The noises he makes are worse than the sight._ Faith noted as she peeked one eye open, before instantly shutting it.

_This whole thing's unreal. I should be thinking about what this son of a bitch wants with me and how we get the hell out of here…_

John ran his hands through his hair, his mind buzzing, looking for a way to deal with the situation as he also snuck a look at the King.

_But I just can't think straight… and all that comes to mind is a stupid sick joke about redheads._

His disgust soon diverted from the act to the King himself. Glaring at the limp form succumbing to the hunger of the ancient creature of the night, John knew that there was more to his being here than vengeance. But for whatever reason he was summoned, he knew that it would be bad news.

Dropping the corpse with an unceremonious thud, John was brought out of his daze and raised his eyes back to the King. With a scowl and a spiteful look in his eyes, he started thinking.

_I'll get out of here. I'll walk away from this bastard and his collection of walking excrement. I'll go back where I don't have to think about any of this. I_ _**will** _ _._

His senses twigged slightly to a heavy sigh as he turned to look Faith's nervous yet determined face, her brown eyes all at once numb with death, yet filled with so much life.

_No,_ _**we will** _ _._

* * *

_They live deep inside the planet, feeding on ancient things that no human should ever have to look upon, resting their cold, pale skin against the icy rocks. Down there, in the gloomy Hades unreachable by man, the King of the Vampires hold his court and rules his legions with the love of the dead, like a morgue attendant who cares a little too much about his charges._

_Unspeakable pleasures are indulged in those passageways and chambers, and plans are mad for visits to the world above to taste, all to briefly, the thrill of an opened throat and a spilled vein._

_They consult rock pool oracles where blind fish with useless swollen eyes swim to and fro, shaping the vampires' world with the flick of a fin or twitch of a tail. And so in the dark they live, as they've lived for time immemorial, content with a land of blackened stone and bone pale rock, a madman's wonderland where no one ever grow old._

_The dead don't age._

* * *

Licking the last flecks of blood, brain tissue, and spinal fluid from his fingers, the King stepped away from the shriveled-up corpse of the former Sunnydale PD officer. Reclining once again on his makeshift throne in front of his two guests, he was accompanied by two women. If they had to take a guess, they assumed that they were both vampires, but that didn't bother them. What did bother them was in the wake of the sickening act that they had just witnessed, the two women seemed to be licking away all the drops of blood from the King's face and clothes, their fingers hovering over his shoulders, pressing kisses to his neck and face.

"You can sit down again if you like. You too Ms. Lehane…" The King proffered to them both, gesturing to the fallen log. " ** _Relax._** _"_

"I'm alright." Faith replied staring daggers at the King.

"Nah, I'm getting a cramp anyway." John responded dryly. "It's bloody freezing out here, so why don't you just get to the point of all this before my bollocks shrivel up and drop off?"

"We've been here for a while, I have to admit – I thought we were getting along rather well. I was really interested in your thoughts on your friends for instance. It's a good Jason Blood impression…"

"Yeah, well, I've had enough and frankly I think my friend here has too." Rubbing his hand across his neck, trying not to think about what could be done, he continued. "Getting a load off your mind is one thing – having a bloke who sucks spinal fluid as your confidant, that's something else. So why don't you just quit all the pally shit, like I said before?"

At this the King began to laugh, his sadistic chortling beginning to disturb Faith once more, and pissing off Constantine in the process.

"And what's so bloody funny?" He demanded calmly from the vampire.

"I'm sorry… It's just the little act you put on, that's all." The King answered, trying to restrain his laughter. "The whole 'just an ordinary bloke with no time for all this hocus-pocus nonsense'… It's very good."

Faith noted how John's scowl of derision turned to one of outright anger. Or maybe it was irritation. _Either way, he seems even more pissed off now._

"But that, all of that, doesn't work with me." The King had stopped laughing and his confident grin now returned. "It doesn't hide the fact that you're one of the most intelligent, able, and daring occult figures that's ever lived. And that's why I want you."

"Now hold on a minute…" John immediately answered, not exactly willing to go down this route. _There's getting your leg over and then there's this…_

"No, no. I don't mean **that** …" The King clarified, his bemused smile now a grin. "I mean I want you to work for me."

" ** _Work_** for you? What as? A blood donor?"

"As a gatherer of **_knowledge._** You can tell me when the various players in the magical game plan their moves against me, so that I can strike first. They all know you, and what you've done, but they'd never suspect you were with me. My **_spy._** "

If the shock on John's face seemed subdued and camouflaged, one only had to look to the shocked face of the Slayer next to him for any trace of drama or surprise. Faith's eyes were wide-open, bugged-out and her mouth was gaping at the revelation. She knew that she had underestimated what the chain-smoking Brit could do, but to hear just how influential the living mess of a man was in the magical world was something she wasn't prepared for.

_So, definitely more than a hot piece of ass…_

"Jesus…" The magus drawled out, the magnitude of the offer settling on him.

"No… He's probably a little out of your league." The King jested in reply.

"Ho frigging ho. It's **_all_** out of my league, chum. You've got the wrong man." He leaned against the tree in front of them languidly. "I hardly know what anyone else is up to these days – all I want is to be left alone for the bad shit in my life to sod off and die. I don't **_do_** anything anymore."

"Really…" The King squinted at the cocky-sounding mage. "What about you did to help defeat the Darkness, and what you did to the demon Nergal? If that isn't special, I don't know what is?"

* * *

_Countless billions of years from now, when the cooling sun dips beneath the dying planet's horizon, its ray little more than a breeze on his skin where once they'd have burnt him to ash, the Vampire will stand on the shores of a stagnant seas and look out over the world he drank dry._

_And – he'll smile._

_It'll be a smile of fond memory for the times he's had, and his mouth will run with drool at the thought of all those throats that parted before his razor teeth and the veins that emptied across his lapping tongue._

_And it'll be a smile of hope and delight for the future, because while this Earth is exhausted, there are a thousand more in the heavens above, young worlds that have never known his touch a universe to choose from._

_He'll rejoice then, knowing that he's unstoppable, that are out in those myriad starfields are plenty more mortals with dreams for better times that will never come, and that he'll be there to revel in their misery and harvest them like cattle._

_For the King of the Vampires, the future is bright._

* * *

"We have a lot in common, John." The King stood slowly and stepped closer to the mage, the surrounding legion of monsters mimicking the movements.

"Piss off. And I told you not to call me that, right?"

"We walk apart from the common herd, don't we? Because we know things they don't and wouldn't want to, and they despise us just for being different."

"That's a load of balls, mate. I've had all sorts of prats trying to convince me I'm like them – it's an old trick, and you can shove it up your arse." John gave the King a pointed look. "You and I have _nothing_ in common."

"Oh? Why are you so sure?" The King demanded of him, rising slowly to his feet. "Have you any idea what it's like to be a vampire?"

John wouldn't deny that he was sure as hell nervous. He could feel the sweat slowly trickling down his back and across his brow. Standing in front of the King gave him a better understanding why he was so feared in the annals of history. He seemed to stand almost a full head taller than Constantine as he towered over him, giving the illusion that he was eclipsing the moon. The King leaned toward him and with a voice that would've made Eve succumb without any hesitation whispered to the mage.

"Ever been tempted to find out?"

John remained silent, glaring daggers and willing back his fear. After all it wasn't every day that he got job offers like this and from recruiters so catastrophically dangerous.

"You can forget all the fairy stories for a start." The King explained, offered, mistaking his silence as contemplation. "Garlic is sour, but then, so's lemon. A stake through the heart is like a cut finger. Running water makes you itch, and crucifixes, bibles, holy water, all that bullshit – it's like magic. It only works if you're stupid enough to believe in it. Except for sunlight, you're indestructible!"

Faith was worried now, given just how thoughtful John seemed to be upon listening to the King's words. It was a rather tempting offer, at least to those sick-minded and opportunistic enough. And given the matter of just how little she really knew about him, she began to get anxious. What was stopping him from just up and being the King's magical James Bond?

_Stupid, stupid Faith! You idiot! This is why you don't trust anyone…_

"And the things you can do… your strength is that of a hurricane. You can charm the strictest virgin into a slut. You can walk across moonbeams and go anywhere in the world in an instant." Reveling in his temptations, the King smiled at the thoughtful look on John's face. "As for the feeding… relax… what was disgusting when you were a mortal becomes a delight. It's better than sex. Your teeth are so sharp you don't feel the skin tear, or the wall of the vein part, and the **_blood_** … imagine sinking your teeth into the choicest leg of lamb and having eight pints of the most exquisite claret rush down your throat."

"And… and what about your victims?" He asked, hesitance laced throughout his voice as he snuck a worried glance at Faith.

"Screw your victims. They're just bloody livestock." The King took a few steps closer toward Constantine. "Since when have you been a vegetarian?"

Taking a breath John, ran his hands over his face. It's beginning to look like the best he can hope for here is death. _And hopefully on a permanent basis._

"I'm not interested."

"But you don't have to be, just at the moment." The King reassured with a spark in his eye. "Work for me. Bring me your reports on the others… and soon, when you've seen what my life is like, you'll start to want yours to be the same. And I'll happily make it that way."

Reaching out, he placed his pale white hand onto the mage's shoulder. John's eyes widened at the touch, as he struggled to retain all sense of clarity. _Bloody hell…_

"You can even invite your little girlfriend to join us if you desire. Normally, I'd be rather _famished_ at the thought of one." He turned his smile toward Faith, who now seemed only a minute away from full on panic. "But I never even stopped to consider what would happen if one of you were to join our ranks. Foolish of me really. After all, there are so many _uses_ for a Slayer."

Faith could only stare at the King, her mouth wide open at the sudden prospect of now being invited to join the myriad cadavers and undead that surrounded them. She tried to respond, but the words didn't seem to be flowing out as she gave John a helpless look.

"Come on, John. We can do great things together. We can forge something new and dark and beautiful and those idiots will never stop us with their bloody foolish **_magic_**." The King rubbed the mage's shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes as he brought out his fangs. "There's a whole world out there… and I'm hungry."

* * *

_They're out there in the night, waiting to feed._

_When the sun goes down, and the comforting light is eaten by the shadows, they'll be there to catch us, thriving on our fears and hatreds and everything that drags us down from what we might become._

_Half the world is always night and so is always theirs… Pray they don't get greedy for the rest of it._

_The King of the Vampires wants our blood for all the evil he knows he'll find there._

_And he'll never go hungry._

* * *

The click of his lighter flicking on pierced the surrounding darkness for only a moment as he lit his cigarette, a brief flicker of the sun. Taking in a puff of smoke, John Constantine squared his shoulders and gazed around him. He took in all the ghouls, ghosts, and spectres, the wraiths, the mal-formed, and the skeletons, the demons and vampires, half-breed and pure-blood all around. He knew he was surrounded, condemned probably if his answer was unfavorable. So with a shit-eating grin on his face and a cigarette in his mouth, John Constantine gave his answer to the King of the Vampires.

"If you're so hungry, why don't you just eat shit?"

It was the King's turn to be surprised, his eyes widened as he processed the magus's response to his offer.

" ** _WHAT?!_** "

"You heard." John replied nonchalantly. "Jesus, that's got to be the worst job offer **_ever_**."

Turning back to the King, he had to grin at the confused look on his face, at everyone's face from the demons and vampires, to the wolves, and even Faith herself. He gave her a devilish wink before expanding.

"You've been listening to me bitching about all those other arseholes, and you haven't even twigged _why_ , have you? I don't want to be some sort of frigging superman – 'John Constantine, server of the Dark One'! Christ's sake!" He took another puff of his Silk Cut. "I mean, you'll be wanting me to wear a poncy hood and start waving a magic wand, next…"

"But if you hate those idiots so much, why are you passing up on a chance to wipe them all out?" The King was practically screaming now. "You'd have immense power!"

"Oh, that'd be _great._ I'd end up just like you, you prick! God you're hopeless…" He sighed to himself before continuing. "You think I'm putting on an act, eh? Man of mystery pretending to be Joe Average, right?"

The King's brow furrowed as to where the mage was leading him with this point.

"I don't suppose it ever occurred to you it might the **_other way 'round?_** " John asked, all levity disappearing as he proffered the thought to the King. "I'm happy with the life I've got, thanks."

" ** _Why?_** What's so fucking **_good_** about it?"

"Because I know who I am. I'm **_real_**." He spat back at the King. "I don't forget about it like all those others do – and that's why they're all so _mysterious_ , by the way – so no one twigs there's bugger all to them."

"And what's so _good_ about being **_real_** , then? Can you tell me? You seem very sure of yourself, you little mortal bastard, so I'll tell you what…" The King crossed his arms as he offered his challenge to John Constantine. "If you can tell me why your ordinary, piss-boring life is **_better_** than mine, both you and your little lover-girl can walk out alive. If you can't, I'll cut your throat and drink my fill and leave you half-alive _forever_. Not before you watch me do the same to Ms. Lehane."

Faith was about to protest, give her perspective on this whole screwed-up dinner party she seemed to have stumbled into. But before she could get a word in edgewise, John answered the King's challenge.

"Easy." He smiled, his grin wider than ever before. "Can you go for a walk in the park and hear the birds singing in the morning? Can you kiss a girl and know she loves you? Can you go out and get pissed with your mates? I can."

He dared to take one step closer, within hand's reach of the King before he finished.

"And just so we're sure who's better off, why don't we sit here together and watch the **_sun_** come up in an hour or so?"

Faith watched the whole exchange with her mouth agape as she saw just how mad and willing the man seemed to be and how furious the King seemed to have been. Not expecting such and answer, the King reached out his hands, every desire to kill the insolent Englishman coming to mind, yet not having the will or power to do so.

"Well?" John asked, waiting with a cheeky grin for the King to respond.

"Shut up." The King exploded into a fury. " ** _Shut the fuck up! Out! Get out of here! And take your mousy little bitch with you!"_**

"Be glad to." John flicked his cigarette butt at the King before walking over to Faith and placing his hand on her back as they both calmly walked out of the park together, with the King screaming curses and obscenities as they left.

"Don't celebrate too soon, Constantine. You're in a lot of trouble. What you did to _Nergal_ , to the paradigms of **_Heaven and Hell_** , have not been forgotten – and you've set things in motion you're not going to like."

"Just keep walking, luv." He whispered to Faith, smiling to himself at the King's angered cries.

"You mark my words, you whoreson bastard! If _I_ don't get you, **_somebody else will! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME DAMMIT?!_** "

"Sire?" The King turned slowly to be greeted with the face of a concerned Mary. "He's gone and the dawn is on the way. Cindy has offered us invitation to her provisions in Los Angeles. We can drink our fill before we sleep."

_Or plot our next move against him._

Around them, all the creatures started to slip back into the shadows, seeking refuge from the coming dawn. All of them fleeing the oncoming light of the harsh morning star.

"No, Mary. I've lost my appetite." The King of the Vampires gave once last hard look at the spot where the Constant One himself had stood and denied him. "Bastard."

* * *

In the distance, they could see the black hue of the night slowly turn to a deep cerulean with hints of orange peeking out from the horizon as they saw the first glimpse of bright yellow. The sun's brightness for an instance seemed to silhouette the outline of Sunnydale's skyline. Pushing open the gates of Weatherly Park, the magus and the slayer both walked quietly away from their ordeal and toward their lodging.

The silence during the walk back was awkward yet preferable to both parties. They decided that enough was said during the night. But silence could never last forever, and as usual it was Faith who would be the first to break.

"John?" She asked, the sound of her voice feeling foreign to her after that night.

"Yes?" He replied, staring at her with worry in his eyes.

"What you said to the King, about being alive. Being real… did you meant it?"

"Of course." John answered her with confusion and resolute affirmation in his voice. "Nothing's worth losing the chance to be normal, no matter how small that chance is."

Nodding back at him, seemingly satisfied with his answer, she looked down at the pavement and placed her hands in her jacket pockets as they both continued on in silence back to the motel. Reaching their rooms, Faith turned to John, a tired yet relieved smile on her face.

"Well, that was…" She trailed off, trying to find the right words to describe the night.

"Intensely fucked up?" John finished for her, trying to bring back as much levity as he could.

"It was, but I was gonna say… educational."

"Educational?" He looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah. Because now, I know what I can expect from you, Mr. Joe Average." She smiled back at him as she unlocked her door. "See ya later Conny."

She gave him what he would describe as a cheeky wink, before she retreated back into her room. With a huff of his breath, and a ridiculous smile plastered on his face, he lingered outside her door for another minute before stepping away toward his room. Turning around, he gazed up at the sunrise, a brilliant shade of blue without a single cloud to block the light. The autumn leaves starting to fall, paving the way for the next winter frost, John smiled as the new day made itself aware to the rest of the world. Everything about just seemed to be shouting aloud reminders at him about how good it is to be alive.

_And after a night like that one, who am I to disagree?_

Taking one last glance at the dawn, all of his senses being awoken to the fact that the rest of the world was now awaking, he took a final breath of fresh air before returning to his room.

_Magic._

* * *

_There's been a lot said about John Constantine, all right, and everyone who's known him has their own pet theory._

_Really, though, he's just a man._

_Perhaps one day, if we let him, he can be a hero._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is it! The penultimate chapter! I was originally planning to split this into two chapters, but it seemed to break off the narrative unnecessarily. So instead you get the longest chapter I've written thus far... sort of.**
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> **I say "sort of" because technically I didn't write this chapter, I adapted it. All of the dialogue and narrative that occurs here is lifted directly from the Hellblazer comics, specifically issue #50 entitled 'Remarkable Lives' by Garth Ennis.**
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> **It was also the impetus that drove me to start this story in the first place. Given just how much of the story has felt more "Constantine in the Buffyverse" it was really cathartic to write something vice versa.**
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> **Also, as to why the King of the Vampires looks like James Dean, it's in the comics. Seriously. In the comic, the King is drawn to look like James Dean, and it's really never explained why.**
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> **I hope you enjoy it because the next chapter's going to be the last one :)**


	27. Epilogue: A Change of Plans

**Epilogue: A Change of Plans**

"And you're sure the King won't be coming back any time soon?"

It was a tense moment of inquiry for the Watcher, but Giles knew that he had to make sure that the town was safe. It was justified, given how his former pupil showed up at his doorstep at nine in the evening with a bottle of whiskey and claims of news about the King of the Vampires, Giles figured he had a right to be tense. Pouring the whiskey into two glass tumblers, he watched his former student's face with apprehension.

"He's not liable to come back here anytime soon, chief." The magus replied, taking the glass that was offered to him.

"What makes you so sure about that John?" Giles asked, taking a sip from his glass.

"The bastard's been around since _before_ Eden. He's an ancient fuckwit. And ancient fuckwits are all cut from the same cloth when it comes to honor." He answered, reveling in Giles' slight wincing of his colorful language use. "I outwitted the bastard and kicked the rest of his lot out of town. Trust me, he's not gonna be coming back any time soon."

"Well, that's… that's certainly a… _comfort_ to hear."

John nodded to the Watcher's assessment and took another sip of his whiskey. The two Englishmen sat in silence, each cradling their glasses, contemplating what to say next. After a few minutes of quiet, it was Giles who would end up breaking this very British moment.

"John."

The exorcist only gave a turn of the head in acknowledgment.

"Are you really planning to stay in town for the next couple of days?"

Sighing slightly, the magus downed the rest of his glass before taking a moment to consider his answer.

"I don't know really." He said, taking out his pack of cigarettes. "It could be a couple of days. Or weeks. Maybe months."

A faint haze of smoke soon started to fill the room.

"Are you sure that'll be necessary John?" Giles asked, sitting up straight in his seat.

"Hopefully not." John breathing in another hit from his Silk Cut. "But then again, when has hope ever worked out in our favor?"

With those words Rupert Giles sighed and downed the last of his whiskey. He got up and headed toward the table, picking up the bottle of whiskey and bringing it back with him into the living room. He sighed to himself slightly as he reflected on the events of the past few weeks. The series of vampire attacks. Calling his old friend. Discovering the existence of the King. It was madness that felt so close to spiraling out of hand.

_It feels just like the old days, doesn't it?_

Setting down the bottle on the coffee table next to the letter that John had recovered from Dr. Cameron's office. He had read and reread it so many times that he could practically memorized it. A letter of confirmation, approving the status of Dr. Vestra Cameron to be appointed by the medical board as the new hospital director for Sunnydale General with all legal entanglements essentially being handled by Dr. Cameron's attorney. But there was only one aspect of the letter that had managed to shake him and John to the core: the name of the law firm that represented Dr. Cameron.

In fine black ink, at the very bottom read:

_All legal proceedings for Dr. Cameron's approval from interim status to full-time to be handled by Att. Lilah Morgan of_ _**Wolfram & Hart.** _

Taking another sip of his glass, Giles eyed his student warily as he considered the consequences of him staying on the Hellmouth.

_It_ _**does** _ _feel like the old days. And that's exactly what I'm worried about._

* * *

Angel had made a fair amount of progress in his recovery, but the whole ordeal still left him scarred and shaken. After all, one simply doesn't forget a thing like Hell anytime soon. In lieu of that, keeping awake at odd hours had become the norm for him.

He sighed quietly, not particularly hungry, nor stressed. The best he could describe it would probably be 'unnerved'. It felt there was something nagging in the back of his head, a footnote amidst the volumes of memories he had accumulated in his long undead life.

And now that footnote seemed to be keeping him awake as he struggled to recall what that name meant to him.

_Constantine._

Visions of a Somerset village. Voices whispering that seemed to yield the descriptions of a light unbounded. A flash of blonde hair atop a figure of Georgian wear.

Opening his eyes, Angel sighed quietly. The memories were there, but something seemed to prevent them from springing forward.

_Looks like another long night._

* * *

_Interlude: Dialogue Between Two Soldiers_

Faith Lehane expected a quiet night of patrol, but a fluttering of wings announced the arrival of what could only be complications.

"What the hell?"

_"_ _Quite the opposite in fact."_

"Okay, buddy, you got five seconds to tell me who you are before the stabbing begins."

_"_ _Peace, Faith Lehane. I'm not here to harm you."_

"How do you know my name?"

_"_ _I know a lot of things. You can call me Emmanuel. I believe you're acquainted with one of my charges."_

"Your charges?"

_"_ _John Constantine."_

"How do you know John?"

_"_ _I'm something of a friend. Although, I doubt he'd say as much."_

"No surprises there. Look, Manny I've had a long couple of days so either you tell me what you want or you could just piss off back to… wherever it is you're from."

_"_ _You'll find out soon enough. But for now, it's important that you listen when I say this: trust him."_

"What that's it? _Trust him?_ Are you really pulling this vague, cryptic crap on me?"

_"_ _Trust John Constantine. You'll need him. And he'll need you."_

And with a smile, he uncurled his wings, their very sight enough to turn any unbeliever. And with a fluttering of his wings, Faith found herself alone again.

"What the actual fuck?"

* * *

"And you're sure that he's gone for good?"

"Yes, sir. We checked his hideouts and outposts. All empty."

"And his followers?"

"Gone with him, we suspect."

"Oh, that's a shame. I was beginning to take to the fellow." He bit into his apple. "It's not every day that I meet someone older than me, let alone a king."

"No, I… I suppose not sir."

"Well, then Mr. Finch…" He turned to face his Deputy Mayor. "It looks like we have an opening."

"It looks like it sir." Deputy Mayor Allen Finch smiled back to his boss.

From behind his desk, Mayor Richard Wilkins III skimmed over the file that he had received three days ago. A series of notes from a facility in Northern England, newspaper articles from _The Sun_ , _The Telegraph_ , and _The Daily Mail_ , and a picture of a blonde man in a trench coat looking more than a bit surly.

_Maybe a change of plans is exactly what we need._

"Well, then Mr. John Constantine, let's see what you have to offer Sunnydale."

* * *

From the office in Los Angeles, the sun seamed to gleam stronger and higher than he expected. It was a change of pace after all the hunting he had done. But out of all the places that he had been because of his job, LA had to be the worst. The endless pain and misery of life disguised under a veneer of joy, happiness, unbounded light. It sickened him to no end.

A single file placed on his desk, was enough to add to his tetchy mood. It had been a risk collaborating with Wolfram & Hart, but it was necessary if any assessment of the situation in the Hellmouth was to be ascertained. The Crisis had shaken their cause to the core and amidst all that chaos was one whistleblower had leaked their most closely guarded secret to the allegiances of Hell.

But thankfully, there was a back-up plan. Technically.

Shifting through the papers, he sighed to himself as he read the fate of Dr. Vestra Cameron.

_So much for 'according to plan'._

Pressing the button on his desk, his two lieutenants entered his office. Clad in their organization's white suits, they looked determined and eager to serve.

_They better be._

"You called for us sir?"

"Yes. Hoover, Featherstone, it appears that the Hellmouth is compromised."

They looked at each other curiously, apprehension as to what would come next.

"Compromised sir?" Hoover asked, worry laced in his voice.

"Yes. We shall not be receiving aid from Wolfram & Hart any longer."

"And what about the Ascension, sir?" Featherstone inquired.

"As far as we know, it has yet to begin. For now, we shall monitor the situation, but we can no longer actively involve ourselves with the affairs of Sunnydale." He sighed, closing the file on his desk. "As for what we do now, we return to our mission."

At those words, a brief glint of fear struck the two, but they nodded silently. And with a wave of his hand he bade them leave his office.

Turning his seat to face the LA skyline, he frowned once again. Too much had gone wrong, but this time he'd be sure that such interruptions would not happen again.

After all the work he put in taking control, he would not let their organization fail in its mission. The Grail would succeed in restoring order to the world. Genesis would be theirs.

And with that final thought, Herr Starr smiled in his resolve.

_Perhaps that is what we needed after all. A change of plans._

* * *

**And that's the end of 'All the King's Men'! I'd like to apologize first off for taking so long to upload this. I was debating whether or not to put in that final section of the story because it alludes to a hell of a lot more. If you get the reference and the story it comes from, then yes that is a part of this crossover AU that I've established. If not, a simple Google search will answer your questions.**

**There will be more stories, but for now I'm taking a bit of a break from writing within this crossover AU to focus on my personal life. I'll probably start up again sometime around the new year.**

**Thanks so much to all the readers! And I hope you stick around for the stories to come!**

**\- Dollar Day**


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